
■Ar.nr\^^ 



















i^m ^w 



ywP'^^w' 




W 'W ' ^r' 

kl'-l \¥ 

mf T^r 7^!| 




r T ^ 
















« 

































Subscription toi' 1- miinbrra, t 2 <'0 



Per annum, 24 numbers, in advance. 











■ ^ VOKK: : ' '*’■ 

POLLARD PUBLISHING CO 

No, IS BAROLAV STREET. ;; 


Efitered in the Post Oftice in New York as second-class matter. 

Ho ~ 


December is, i8qo 



THE 


FROLICS OF CUPID : 

OR, 

LOVE’S VAGARIES. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
BY 

KHflHV IiLiHWELiIiYfl Wlli 

12iiio, illuminated paper cover. Price, *25 cents. 


All novel-readers will welcome and revel in this congenial and fervid 
story of love in its most bewitching form. The roguish god with the 
rainbow wings seems to have lost one of his feathers to pen these glowing 
pages in amorous rapture. It is like a dream realized to follow the two 
dashing collegians in their romantic pursuit of the belles of the boarding- 
school. 

Amid the vernal glades of the old wood, embowering the Temple of 
Love, the author varies the quaint episodes and ingenious devices which 
finally unite the ardent lovers. His descriptions of female loveliness, in its 
heightened moods, are surpassingly realistic, whilst romance and humor 
are treated in a masterly style in his word-painting of the conflagration of 
the ladies’ school and the ludicrous love-story of the absurd school-teachers. 
Every page is absorbing, and the interest never for a moment flags. 

“The Frolics of Cupid ” is, without question, the most thrilling 
and amusing love story ever placed on the market. 

“The Frolics of Cupid” is published in No. 7 of Pollard’s Popular 
Publications. i2mo, paper covers. Price^ 2o Cents, 

For sale by all book and news dealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, 
upon receipt of twenty-five cents by the publishers, 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

13 Barclay Street, New York. 


PAUL LELEU. 


THE 

FROLICS OF CUPID 

OR, 


LOVE’S VAGARIES. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 


HENRY LLEWELLYN WILLIAMS. 


\ •' loy- j / / 

\ , Vv ,/ 

NEW YORK; /!> / '>7 ' 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
13 Barclay Street. 

1891. 


/ 










Copyright, 1891, 

BY 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY. 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


THE FROLICS OF CUPID. 


CHAPTER I. 

A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE. 

The old port of Villefeuilles, one of the most insignifi-' 
cant places in the Bouches de la Saone Department, is se- 
pulchrally silent and lugubrious. In this cheerless and 
goody-goody quarter the most familiar sound is the mo- 
notonous drone of the Cathedral bell. And on seeing its 
gloomy, narrow, and deserted streets, where grass grows 
up between the uneven pavement, the first feeling is one 
of inexorable loneliness. 

It is like a city of the dead. , 

Sometimes a ringing sound is heard on the jagged 
stones ; and, instanter, uneasy and astonished faces appear 
in the oblong apertures of the blinds and stare at the 
inoffensive passer-by with stupid and unreasoning amaze- 
ment and hostility. Then comments break out from 
window to window, the stranger usually giving food for 
an hour’s conversation ; and, at last, the novelty having 
worn off, the blinds are gradually closed and the street 
grows dull and silent again. 

On ascending on one side from the old town, which lies 
in an amphitheatre between the hillsides, one reaches a 
vast table-land, and on this are erected two buildings 
singularly contrasting, by their colossal dimensions, with 

3 


4 The Frolics of Cupid. 

the rickety, white, tile-covered houses, which comprise 
Villefeuilles. 

One of these buildings offers so stern and even forbid- 
ding an aspect that it might be taken for a prison or a 
military barracks. It has high walls of dirty gray, devoid 
of any architectural ornament, and lighted by a quantity 
of green-shuttered windows in a line, at even distances. 
It is Rongem College for Young Gentlemen. 

The other structure, covering less ground, soothes the 
vision b}^ the candid freshness of its white walls, the 
brightness of its high terra-cotta roof, and the dainty sim- 
plicity of its composition. This is the Ursuline Seminary 
for young ladies of the first families. 

The two edifices, over a mile apart, are separated by a 
splendid bit of wooded land. A very lofty wall roughly 
crosses this ‘ ‘ park,” of which most of the ground belongs 
to the college. Despite this gigantic and inaccessible 
rampart, defying with its inharmonious coping-stone the 
majestic domes of the centennial oaks and slender pop- 
lars, the saucy and irreverent wits in Villefeuilles aver 
that it was raised merely to save appearances and in no 
way prevents communication between the two establish- 
ments, through some seQ?:et doors in the stone enclosure. 

But Villefeuilles is a miraculously devout town; so this 
assertion of the unbelievers is generally repudiated and 
qualified as “abominable, scoundrelly, and infamously 
calumnious.” 

Busying ourselves specially with the young men’s col- 
lege, we find the inside is reached by two entrances, one 
a broad, grim iron gate, the other, beside it, a small door 
with a wicket, to which a couple of stone steps lead. 
When these doors are passed, the visitor stands in a large 
corridor facing a tall, strapping janitor in a long black 
frock coat, who occupies a little glazed watch-box or por- 
ter’s lodge, and receives the guests bareheaded, but at the 
same time with an air of hail-fellow-well-met. 

There is plenty of room in the college: long lobbies. 


The Frolics of Qipid. 


5 


where the heel rings on broad blue and white slabs ; vast 
halls, admirably aerated, but freezing and saddening, with 
no other ornament than texts such as ‘ ‘ Speech is silver, 
silence is golden,” graven on the wall in staring let- 
ters; immense playgrounds surrounded by kalsomined 
walls, against which the passing teacher’s shadow stands 
out in dismal relief. 

No outward sound ever steals into this displeasing 
enclosure, and the deadly stillness reigns pitilessly until 
disturbed at recreation-hours by the merry clamor of the 
students. 

Two of the directors or professors of this college tolera- 
bly well describe, in their appearance as in characters, the 
two types of their tribe. 

First is Nereus, the Head Monitor, w^ho acquits himself 
of the duty with a zeal, skill, and completeness which 
inspires superstitious dread in the students. Tall, dry, and 
thin, with a square, bloodless face and bald forehead. 
had greenish, sphinx-like eyes and an abnormally long, 
pointed nose of a violet hue, which strangely contrasted 
with his cadaverous complexion. His thin lips seemed 
afraid of letting some secret escape, so tightly did he hold 
them together. But in spite of his weakly aspect, he pos- 
sessed herculean strength and a circus clown’s agility. 

His age was hard to pronounce upon. The old pupils 
reckoned him no more than thirty-five; the juniors 
ascribed to him fifty years, while others added ten to that 
number; but nobody was really certain on the subject. 

Still, it was fair to argue that this ideal monitor was not 
less than thirty nor more than sixty. 

Grave and austere, none had ever seen him laugh. 
Not only was his eye always on sentry-duty, but his whole 
person fell into the attitudes of watching, observing, and 
listening Habit had tripled his instinct. He divined 
speech by the lip-movement; to see anybody speaking 
was enough for him. His piety was proverbial ; he would 
mumble a prayer while playing the spy. It is a peculiar 


6 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


fact, but he followed his craft of spying in good faith, 
and believed he had the mission of catching the youth 
“on the fly.” This insatiable fever for eavesdrop- 
ping sometimes impelled him into literally verifying the 
term. 

A servant one day surprised him behind a chimney on 
the roof, watching the boys in the recreation-yard. At 
other times he would pretend an absence, but array 
himself in a minutely irreproachable disguise, the house- 
cleaner’s overalls or the workman’s paint-besmeared over- 
shirt, so that he could sham dusting up or making some 
repairs while gathering what went on. 

At night he would creep into the dormitory and huddle 
up by the students’ head-board to lend his heedful ear 
to the least word a youth might utter in his sleep. 

The other professor, Bauduel, was a short, fat man of 
forty, with round, plump shoulders and so obese that the 
skirts of his long coat bellied out like a dome laid on its 
edge. His forehead was unwrinkled, and his clear blue 
eyes were always at fair weather. The kindly, puffy 
countenance, carefully clean-shaven, equalled a country- 
man’s in ruddy freshness. It expanded with such a lively 
expression of gentle joviality, beatiflc satisfaction, and 
joyous carelessness that it seduced at the outset and 
called up the memory of those jolly monks of old— boon 
companions who never blushed at hobnobbing with a 
soldier and never omitted chucking under the chin the 
pretty lasses whom the Tempter sent upon their path. 

This happy-go-lucky Nestor, who thawed everybody 
with his gaze and revealed all his disposition, had won 
the students’ esteem and friendship. All venerated him ; 
they admired his frankness and showed him unlimited 
confldence. They considered him their confldant and nat- 
ural ally in this rigid school. The other teachers, even 
the terrible Nereus himself, bowed very low to Bauduel 
and were most obsequious to his desires. It follows, 
therefore, that when he had promised every scholar to 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


7 


intercede for him with some tyrannical superior, the suf- 
ferer was sure, in advance, of obtaining what he solicited. 
Prodigious, incalculable, was the number of tasks, 
‘‘keepingS'in,” etc., that this powerful personage had 
removed in his generous condescension. Hence it is easy 
to imagine the immense popularity he enjoyed among 
the students. 

Now and then he made “favorites,” whom he would 
help with their abstruse problems ; lending authoritative 
books out of his library ; sometimes studying with them 
in the professors’ rooms; rewarding cleverness with a 
glass of wine or a cigarette, and not fearing to jestingly 
scold the other instructors for their excessive and regret- 
table severity. Then he would assure the temporary “ pet ” 
of the everlasting friendship he felt for him and confess 
that he was much interested in his future. In short, by 
his honeyed words he would adroitly pump him about 
his parents’ and relatives’ pecuniary position, as well as 
the secrets of his schoobcompanions. Having obtained 
the required information from the boy, he would drop 
him with the confidential advice to keep the little favors 
secretj for fear of arousing the jealousy of his fellows. 

When this intelligence-agent discovered that the boy’s 
family was wealthy, outside searches were instituted to 
confirm the supposition. Then the pupil received par- 
ticular attentions; he became the object of adulation; 
special tutors were given him, and he was isolated from 
“chums ’’and other pernicious infiuences] in short, he 
was constrained to become the friend of the institution 
for life and its benefactor after it. 

Bauduel held also the office of receiving callers at the 
college. Witty, with excellent manners, great facility in 
elocution, much dignity and self-government in gesticula- 
tion, a caressing tone, and the very rare art of complai- 
santly listening, his replies gliding in only at the proper 
time, he performed this delicate but insipid duty with 
perfect grace and adroitness. 


8 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


The old monumental clock in the college dormitory 
suddenly broke the silence of night with eleven slow, 
solemn notes as doleful as a funeral knell. A hanging 
lamp spread a faint light over the shadows, 
j The vast rectangular hall showed two rows of carved 
oak alcoves extending out of sight like a very regular 
interminable street. The aisle was broad, the ceiling 
lofty. The small ogee windows, of antique stained glass, 
and the cold bluestone flags had a stern, almost hallow- 
ing, character which incited to prayer and meditation. 
At night, when the wan gleam of the small night-lamp 
or the silvery moonbeams set the multicolored panes 
a-sparkhng, it looked like a cathedral nave. 

The pupils’ health and comfort lacked no requisites; 
each alcove was spacious and completely partitioned off 
from the next by thick oaken planks. Each pupil had a 
room of his own, with a small pine table, camp-bed, dress- 
ing-stand, chair, his trunk, a clothes-press, etc., and 
texts and .approved prints tacked on the panels. 

At one of the ends of the immense hall was the rigid 
Nereus’s bedroom ; but he had another plain chamber in 
the middle, so that the students never surely knew in 
which retreat their overlooker slumbered. 

At bedtime, nine p.m., he ushered his young flock into 
the fold ; and while each entered his numbered alcove to 
undress and leap briskly into bed, he perambulated the 
central aisle with long strides. Still later he thus roamed 
in the dead of night, vaguely haunted with suspicion, 
sometimes opening a door, listening to the faintest sounds, 
under the impression that he heard whispers and laugh- 
^ ter. And when he acquired the certainty that all revelled 
in the blessed, heavy sleep of youth, he would suddenly 
disappear from the corridor like a swiftly vanishing 
shade or a snuffed-out candle-flame. 

Eleven, we say, sounded in the spacious apartment. 
All the pupils appeared to be slumbering, and nothing was 
heard in the general stillness beyond the lulling, rhyth- 
mical ticking of the large clock. 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


9 


Suddenly a small door opened at the end of the hall 
and a tall black shadow appeared. It was Nereus, with 
his arms pressed to his sides, and his hands muffled in his 
doctor’s gown. He walked wolf-like on tiptoe, to stifle the 
sound of his lonely steps as much as possible. 

He seemed anxious. 

Eeaching the centre, he stopped short to listen, think- 
ing he had heard some unusual noise. During several 
seconds he remained immovable, his body slightly bent 
in an attitude of intense watchfulness; but perceiving 
nothing, he resumed his stealthy course to the other end 
of the dormitory, where he silently opened a little secret 
door, cut into the wall, and disappeared. 

He had barely done so when a tall young man, fully 
dressed, as if he were going straight to the class-room, 
slipped out of one alcove and precipitately glided into the 
adjoining one. 

The dim light Altering into the latter through the partly 
opened door allowed him to distinguish the iron bed and 
an apparently deeply sleeping pupil upon it. His calm 
white face was uncovered; the rest of the form unde- 
flnedly lengthened out under the gray wool coverlet. A 
measured snoring escaped from nose and mouth like a 
bass-viol played with the “ mute” stop on the strings. 

The scholar who so boldly penetrated the sleeper’s cell 
went straight up to the occupant and lightly touched his 
head. 

‘‘ Are you ready, Horace?” he inquired in a low voice. 

The regular respiration ceased at once, and Horace, as 
he was called, opened his eyes, which shone in the twi- 
light like a pair of large sapphires. 

“Am I ready?” he joyfully exclaimed as he got up. 
“Why, I have been over two hours lying all dressed under 
the counterpane, which, I vow, my dear Eobert, was 
irksome and sweltering so as to positively lack comfort.” 

Gently gliding off the couch, he grasped his friend’s 
hand. 


10 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


‘ ‘ Nereus has gone out, ” resumed the latter, “ so we have 
not a moment to lose if we mean to realize our long- 
nourished project to find out where the old fox goes so 
late every night.” 

‘ ‘ Eight ! Let us hasten to follow him,” 

The two students silently departed from the alcove, and 
were before the secret door in a second, and opened it with 
precaution. It gave passage to narrow stone stairs, 
winding between walls and plunged in darkness. 

Stifling the sound of their footfalls and holding their 
breath, the young collegians resolutely dived into the 
shadowy issue. 

They descended some sixty steps, and mechanically 
wondered if they would not bring up in the college vaults 
where the professor would be caught holding a tete-a- 
tete with some dusty, delectable wine-bottles. But the 
shadows soon became less dense, and threads of liquid 
silver began to illumine the way. 

This white glare, sharp after the gloomy darkness, pain- 
fully impressed their eyes for a second, an inexorable 
eternity to them ; but the sensation having dispersed, they 
approached one another, comically distressed. 

‘‘Where the deuce is this corkscrew staircase going to 
end ?” queried Horace in his brother-student’s ear, 

“In the grounds, I judge,” responded Eobert. “But 
if we want to satisfy our curiosity, let us make despatch 
to get out of this. Still, be prudent.” 

“ All right,” agreed the other. 

And then the pair more slowly descended the final steps 
and they were in the open. 

The night was calm and sweet, and redolent of the 
delightful perfume of roses. Though only in the midst of 
April, the breeze was warm, tender, and coaxing as a 
lover’s kiss, and was thoroughly impregnated with fra- 
grance. 

The moon’s fine opal crescent was outlined on the im- 
passive, immeasurable heavens of that infinite blue which 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


II 


leads one irresistibly to dream of golden tresses and ripe 
red lips, and, like a sanctuary lamp in Venus’ temple, it 
discreetly shed its lovely and beguiling radiance. 

The youths stood dazzled and wonder-stricken beneath 
the azure vault where the constellations in myriads 
blinked their palpitating topaz orbs. They breathed not 
a word, but expressed their profound admiration in the 
long, meditative look they interchanged. 

But their contemplation of the firmament lasted only 
a few seconds. Eegretfully, it was true, they lowered 
their gaze to discover where they stood. 

Eobert’s guess was correct : it was really the vast wood- 
land, the mystery-ground which all the students named 
with respect and immoderate longing. All dreamt of 
exploring its cool solitude ; of bounding and racing like a 
herd of colts down the circus-like avenues ; of wading into 
the pools and lakelets to feel the clear water’s soft, 
lascivious caress ; of climbing the high, tufted trees and 
hiding in impenetrable nooks when the dreaded hour rang 
for the resumption of studies. 

This was the place about which all became enthusiastic, 
and some of the seniors secretly pictured it as a place of un- 
utterable delights and paradisaical splendor; where were 
found the rarest of beauteous flowers with the sweetest 
and most desirable perfume ; where the air was so pure 
hnt so intoxicating that it seemed a delicate nectar; 
where the clear and mocking songs of birds tinkled like 
bells or like girls’ laughter; in fine, where luxurious mys- 
tery reigned supreme. 

There it spread imposingly before them like an endless 
green mantle splashed with silver, till it became con- 
founded in the distant blue of the horizon, as if it were 
the unfathomable ocean itself. But the exhalation was ^ 
not the sea’s, sharp and bitter, but one subtle and sensual 
as from aromatic flowers or a woman’s breath— a per- 
fume alternately heavy and violent, which filled the 


12 


The Frolics of Cupid 


brain with maddening thoughts and lulling dreams, and 
the heart with divine yet torturing desire. 

On beholding this scene, the young men felt all this sur- 
prise and trouble, tempered with respect and shrinking, 
and the indescribable, vague melanchol}^ which is en- 
gendered by the contemplation of the marvellous beauties 
of Nature. Then, like the lover who feverishly awaits 
his adored and anticipates the pleasures offered to him, 
the intruders feasted on the gratification to come in this 
ample domain which was interdicted to them. This con- 
tentment, added to the attraction of forbidden fruit, 
appeared so vivid and emphasized that they were almost 
bewitched by its seductions. 

But the time was badly selected for ecstasy. By the 
starlight the adventurers all at once perceived their pro- 
fessor a hundred yards distant, in a broad walk. 

“The devil!” ejaculated Robert, “this is no time for 
admiring gardens, but for following up that cunning fox.” 

“Without his seeing or hearing us, too; so, to avoid 
arousing his attention, let us stoop down over the lawn, 
as near as we can keep to the large trees bordering the 
avenue,” proposed Horace. 

“An excellent idea,” replied his comrade, who bent 
down ; “the lower branches will perfectly screen us, and 
the thick sward will smother the sound of our hardly 
perceptible tread. I defy the old boy to notice us.” ' 

In fact, as the pair, in Indian file, glided softly over the 
velvety lawns, the obliging foliage held its compact fan so 
complacently above them that it would have been im- 
possible for the teacher to descry them if even he had 
> turned to look in the right direction. But he was far 
ahead and going on hurriedly. 

His tall figure threw a fantastic and wavering shadow 
on the silvery path, lengthening before him capriciously, 
out of all proportion. In the deep stillness his feet 
grated angrily on the fine sand with a precise, evenly 


The Frolics of Cupid, 1 3 

marked series of sounds, like the ticking of a pendu- 
lum. 

The two pursuers, spite of their awkward posture, 
crossed with rapidity the distance parting them. When 
only some fifteen yards behind him, they slackened their 
pace to regulate it by his, when suddenly they came up 
to the high wall which separated Rongem College from 
the Ursuline Seminary. 

Our heroes hastily sank into a thicket, but gently 
parted the thin and flexible branches to contemplate the 
Cyclopean stone barrier, shining in the moonbeams. 

They had no difflculty in descrying a small worm-eaten 
wooden door at its base, without lock or bolt, which gave 
grounds for supposing that the communications were 
frequent between the two institutions by that way. They 
saw Nereus walk straight up to this door, push it sharply 
and walk through into the green maze beyond. 

They heard his hurried, noisy steps on the farther side 
gradually grow fainter and die out. With caution, Robei't 
glided up to the little outlet, and on making sure that 
their involuntary pilot was afar, beckoned his associate 
to draw near. Creeping again beside the trees fringing 
the walk which he had followed, they resumed their noc- 
turnal chase. It was undoubtedly arduous, but it gave 
keen zest to the pleasure of their man-hunting expedition. 

For half an hour their course was prolonged in this 
beautiful solitude, which they would have been ravished 
to admire at length, but had to confine their observa- 
tions to furtive peeps lest they lose sight of their human 
quarry. At length they came out into a wide avenue 
invested, under the weird glimmer at that mysterious 
hour, with the semblance of a clear river, rolling its silvery 
flood between enormous masses of foliage. A large build- 
ing sat gracefully and coquettishly on the opposite bank. 

Our discoverers guessed that they stood before the 
young ladies’ boarding-school ; and as their guide paused 
toTook at it, they hastened to imitate him. 


14 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


With its high, tiled roof ornamented with worked iron, 
ornate chimneys, graceful decorations, two slender tur- ^ 
rets looking bold and piquant, it wore more of the aspect 
of a villa than a school. All the upper portion was bathed 
in the opaline moonlight, and the base in shadow. 
From one window alone, on the first floor, a light stared 
into the blackness — a rectangle of yellow light oddly con- 
trasting with the white rays from the lamp of Night. 

The ladies’ school had no direct entrance upon the park. 
To reach its interior a small vaulted way had to be fol- 
lowed which ended in the playground at the foot of a 
broad, carved-oak staircase. 

After rapidily inspecting the building, the two truants 
brohght their vision to bear upon Professor Nereus again. 

He stood motionless in the avenue, holding his nose 
high up as he fixed his eyes upon the dazzling light. 
Suddenly he started off at a run, dived into the little 
covered way, and was gone like a lightning-flash. 

The pursuers, with wonderful wisdom, wrathfully pro- 
tested, and stared pitifully and crestfallen each at the 
other, like thieves who see the spoil slip from their clutches. 
But after they had uttered a hundred execrations and 
hauled the fugitive over the coals, which calmed their 
ire a trifle, they hastily directed their steps towards the 
vaulted way. On carefully scrutinizing it, they acknowl- 
edged the impossibility of penetrating it without exciting 
the enemy’s attention. Nevertheless the impetuous 
Eobert would have entered ; he bent down and beckoned 
his companion to follow, but the latter had more sense, 
and caught him swiftly by the arm so as to force him to 
remain by him. 

“But my dear Horace,” sadly moaned the other, “we 
shall learn nothing.” 

‘ ‘ Of course, I am as disgusted as you ; but it is un- 
deniable that if we venture into that house, of whose 
arrangements we are totally ignorant, we shall get into 
trouble.” 


The Frolics of Capid, 


IS 


Robert comprehended the logic of this Speech, and did 
not insist. Deeply disappointed, the two remained silent 
for a moment. 

“It’s likely that the old crocodile is going into that 
lighted room,” observed Horace at last. 

“ So I beheve. But what business can he have there at 
this unusual hour? ” 

“Who can teU? ” 

The couple directed their vision towards the window, as 
if it would furnish the solution they expected. But the 
sudden thought struck them that they might be perceived 
from that quarter, so they planted themselves against the 
wall, where they irresolutely languished in contemplative 
idleness. 

Before them the park extended its infinite profundity, 
the moonbeams outlining the white avenue like an im- 
mense wall of emerald with fugitive refiections. The 
summit, under the argentine fiood from above, wore the 
rejoicing and fanciful pale green of absinthe; the middle 
shade was a tender grass-tint and also the deeper old-gold 
of moss. Lastly, the base presented the stern and for- 
bidding appearance of antique bronze, sombre and tar- 
nished. This scale of green, as it faded into distance, 
assumed very washed-out violet tints, like the fine bruises 
in crushed white roses, and formed, with the intense blue 
of the skies, a symphony of color fascinatingly harmoni- 
ous and magical. 

Both young men filled their eyes with the landscape. 
They discovered lovable tints which they had neyer 
suspected, and were unspeakably entertained in separ- 
ating and defining them. 

Enthralled in this worship, they had almost forgotten 
their quest, when Robert’s eyes fell suddenly on a huge 
elm which majestically held up its abundant bouquet of 
branches. He stained, and uttered so joyful an outcry in 
surprise that his friend was confounded. 

“ What’s the matter ?” he questioned mechanically. 


i6 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


“That elm tree ! Remark that it rises just before the 
lighted window, so that if we clamber out on one of the 
boughs, we will have a good chance of satisfying our 
curiosity.” 

“Indeed, Robert, it is a good idea. Let us hasten to 
carry it out. ” 

They ran to the tree, grasped its protuberances, and 
stepped on them, so that in a short time they were perched 
on the main fork. With the agility of squirrels, they 
glided through the compact, obstructive network, and sat 
astride a thick arm, of which the outermost twigs almost 
brushed the illuminated casement. 

They both experienced the keen impatience felt in the 
theatre a few minutes before the curtain rises. And as 
they augured wonders in the play to be offered them, 
they congratulated themselves on their prank. They 
reckoned they were very sharp and knowing, and at the 
same time felt disdainful pity in their hearts for their 
schoolfellows— poor, innocent boys who slept ingenuously 
in the tomb-like peace of the dormitory, under the wings 
of their guardian angels, although the shepherd was 
astray. 

The adventurers were not four yards distant from the 
window, which was kept open on account of the close 
atmosphere. As soon as comfortably installed on the 
branch, they lent an attentive ear, and fastened their 
dilated pupils upon the window stage. 

It was a rather roomy but meagrely furnished cham- 
ber. Two or three chromos of the ‘ ‘ Suffer Little Chil- 
dren ” type, colored plaster busts and plaques. Holy Land 
flowers under glass, and photographs of pupils, memen- 
tos “at leaving” to the Dear Instructress— these vainly 
strove to lessen the shocking bareness of the walls. At 
the back, facing the window, were volumimous blue cur- 
tains, probably concealing a bed, and on the left a small 
table supported a lamp, a globe, and writing materials. 

Before it, sitting in an ample leathern arm-chair, a 


The Frolics of Qipid, 


17 


woman was reading. As she half turned her back to the 
window and dropped her head, the Paul Prys up the tree 
could not at first make out her features, but after a few 
instants she shut the book abruptly and rose. This 
brought her face into full view, and the young men recog- 
nized the respectable Mdlle. Radegonde, assistant princi- 
pal in the young ladies’ school. 

She was elderly, with a fiushed, puffy, and inexpressive 
physiognomy, in which glared small black eyes, very 
hard and snappy; her mouth was large and coarse, and 
her chin was adorned with a beard that would have been 
the joy and pride of a young man. 

Though small in figure, the learned lady boasted an 
enormous corporation, which distended her gown like a 
balloon; Rubens’ magic brush could have given only a 
very vague idea of her welUdeveloped bust. In short, an 
ignoble personality, waddling along with regular oscilla- 
tions of irresistible comicality. 

Dreadfully disrespectful, the young students, of an age 
without pity, had surnamed her “ The Elephant, ” which 
mortifying appellation was almost justified by her size 
and ugliness. 

The ponderous lady seemed ill at ease, and cast a 
wistful look every moment on a small clock, whose regu- 
lar and monotonous ticking came to the spies’ ears in the 
great hush of night. 

Suddenly a guarded tapping was heard at the door, 
and Nereus entered the room. Without any ceremony 
he embraced the monstrous dame in his long arms, and 
several times bestowed on her the kiss of peace, saying in 
a wheedling voice, quite unknown to the two secret 
hearers : 

“Do not reproach me for my breach of punctuality, 
celestial Paddy, for which my painful functions account ; 
but here I am, bless the Lord ! delighted to have a night 
of it.” 

Nothing could be more laughable and stupefying than 


i8 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


this brace of burlesque lovers. A caricaturist in search 
of extravagant buffoonery would have hastened to sketch 
the livid, bony face and frightfully thin person of this 
cynical skeleton, as he pawed the spherical little woman. 

At first Horace and his friend had all the trouble in the 
world to refrain from an outburst of surprise ; as it was, 
they began to laugh inwardly as if never to stop. 

‘‘Did you ever!” exclaimed Robert in his fellow’s ear 
in a tone of prudery. 

‘ ‘ Yes, my virtuous friend, let us avert our chaste gaze 
from this carnal sight,” whined Horace with the same 
tearful and indignant voice. 

“ Confess that you did not expect this parody of Romeo 
and Juliet, old fellow!” said Robert. 

“ Certainly not ! I never should have suspected that 
our saint came over here on such a pious errand !” 

“What an astute hypocrite! Duplicity, perversity, 
deceit, and rascality— these vices all combined in our 
teacher-friend,” sen tentiously declared Robert. “What 
a lucky thing he does not suspect that we witness his 
lapse from grace !” 

“He inspires me with immense disgust. What an 
abject, nauseous, heart-sickening spectacle !” hiccupped 
Horace. 

But in spite of their commendable words, they were 
irresistibly drawn nearer the window to behold the cul- 
mination of this absurd travesty. But the elm, though a 
strong-looking tree, has the defect of snapping its most 
massive limbs without warning, and the two watchers 
suddenly felt their perch give way. It broke close be- 
hind them with one short snap, and very little more 
would have caused them both to be hurled in at the win- 
dow. Fortunately this disaster was spared them. With 
the bough they landed safe but confused on the ground 
under the casement. While in dismay and trepidation, 
the amorous pair, starting up, overturned the table, and 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


19 


the globe toppling over on the lamp, smashed it, and 
plunged them in not-unwelcome darkness. 

Recovering their wits and their powers, the young men 
darted back silently on the path they had come by, and, 
moving fleetly, did not linger to drink in the languorous 
perfume, or to admire the tall trees which kindly and 
obsequiously nodded to them as though to invite them to 
return. 

When they regained their college they pressed one 
another’s hands, entered the dark stairway and reached 
the dormitory. It w^as, as ever, plunged in utter silence. 
With caution, Horace and Robert glided into their several 
compartments, hastily flung off their garments without 
the slightest noise, and were soon asleep, the happier for 
their clandestine stroll. 

At half>past flve, when the bell sounded the alarm, 
both young fellows, gay and ready, arose at the same 
time as their mates. The Head Monitor was also up as 
usual, promenading the aisle and gravely conning the 
Latin grammar. 

Not a soul could suspect the nocturnal escapade the 
three characters had indulged in. 


20 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


CHAPTER 11. 

THE PRIDE OF THE SCHOOL. 

Horace Durien and Robert La Forest— the two colleg- 
ians who had so boldly quitted their peaceful dormitory 
to accompany the wily Nereus in his secret visit, and wan- 
der in the silent and fragrant beauty of the Ursulines’ 
gardens — were two fine fellows of twenty, from the same 
town, and friends from infancy. Both were handsome 
and already tolerably “sad dogs.” 

To their physical charms they joined a happy disposi- 
tion, superior intelligence, great facility of conception, 
sound judgment, and all the advantages which thorough 
education develops. 

These rare and brilliant points were tempered by the 
ordinary and necessary imperfections of youth: very 
great recklessness, indomitable fire, the credulity of all 
enthusiasts, a marked insolence, which, however,^ they 
made tolerable, and, as a matter of course, a desperate 
admiration for the fair sex. 

Robert, in particular, was an inveterate Don Juan. 
More impetuous, audacious, and intriguing than his faith- 
ful Achates. It was always he who took the initiative 
in their adventures. 

The more circumspect Horace would hesitate at first 
and expose all the difficulties which might arise; he 
would add judicious counsel, but finally rally to his 
bosom-friend’s ideas. Once they had planned an affair 
it was a pleasure to see with what warmth and skill the 
inseparable pair would realize it; under what marvel- 


21 


The Frolics of Cupid. 

lously plausible pretexts they would escape from the 
college and satisfy their youthful love-thirst. 

At the time of our forming their acquaintance, they 
were finishing their course in philosophy, and would have 
only six months to spend on the school-room seats — to 
their huge satisfaction. 

Their families lived in Belleville, on the Boneuse, and, 
without being rich, possessed incomes more than sufficing 
for life in the country. 

Horace’s mother, Madame Durien, had suffered the 
grief of losing her husband after six years of wedded 
bliss. With so young a son, she had not thought of con- 
tracting a new union. She became church-struck, and 
as she grew in years carried devoutness into fanaticism. 
Besides, Horace had an uncle on the mother’s side who 
lived in that same picturesque neighborhood. Younger 
than his sister, he was her direct and living antithesis. 
A liberal spirit, he; the enemy of routine and prejudice, 
bound to the impassioned cult of art and beauty ; she, a 
prude- -bigoted, superstitious, and unable, in her pettiest 
acts, to depart from rules, system, and conventionalities. 
This incompatibility of ideas and temperament led to 
sharp discussions between brother and sister. The for- 
mer could not help railing at her religious spells, criticis- 
ing her set opinions, and laughing at the blind respect she 
professed for what Mrs. Grrundy will say. Still, despite 
this complete divergency in tastes and the “tiffs’’ it 
provoked, the brother and sister remained close friends, 
and the former warmly interested himself in his nephew 
and cherished him with all his soul. 

Robert La Forest’s father was a notable merchant in the 
wine and spirit trade, and, after twenty years of it, was 
making ready to retire, and enjoy well-earned and com- 
fortable repose. He and his better half were friends and 
neighbors of Madame Durien’s, whom they regarded as a 
saint, sharing her religious faith in all its ecstatic exalta- 
tion. 


22 


The Frolics of Cvptd, 


Thus lifted above our world, the two families could not 
repress the desire to see their sons enter into holy orders. 
Hence their placing them, in their eighth year, in the 
celebrated Yillefeuilles College. 

Their early years of study passed by calmly and 
monotonously. The two boys proved docile enough, till 
gradually, as they advanced to manhood, they felt aver- 
sion for their instructors and an insurmountable objec- 
tion for the ecclesiastical state. 

When they went home for the holidays, they found no 
books but theological ones, no pamphlets but pious tracts, 
no newspapers but religious organs, and they determined 
never to cut their leaves. Their parents gave them 
lively exhortations to be more devout and love their teach- 
ers more ardently; incessant advice to “fare on pulse,” 
lentils, and pure water; to show more respect and attach- 
ment for learning of the Dry-as-dust sort ; etc. Then, 
bored by these eternal homilies, Horace and his friend 
would take refuge at his uncle’s, and tell him of the 
deadly tedium felt by always hearing the same anthem 
dinned into them till their teeth were set on edge. 

Durien greeted the youths with open arms; benevo- 
lently received their confidence ; even mocked the over- 
done bigotry, and finally took them into his library of 
facetiae, sterling fiction and poetry, saying: 

“ Pitch into this feast of reason, ray lads, and recover 
your good spirits among these joy lights of the world! ” 

This free-thinker’s collection ranged from the eclectic 
philosophers of the eighteenth century to our most mod- 
ern poets and realistic novelists. Diderot, Rousseau, and 
Voltaire were sandwiched in with Balzac, Maupassant, 
Zola, Dumas, and Tolstoi. 

Having a passion for reading, our hopefuls passed the 
greater portion of their vacations in such diversion, and 
carried to the college profane volumes which they con- 
cealed in an ingenious double-bottom of their trunks. 

The uncle, who vowed to thwart his sister’s project, 


The Frolics of Cupid, 




paid his nephew a monthly visit, to get the list of what 
books he would like at the next call ; and Durien would 
not only devour them, but compare notes upon them with 
La Forest. 

By bribing a college-scout, or servant, who could go 
outside, the boys obtained newspapers and other publica- 
tions, so that they kept pace with the literary and polit- 
ical movements. 

This kind of training, joined to Uncle Durien’s solid 
theories, had soon formed their characters, ripened their 
judgment, and developed their minds. They were set on 
their guard against all those retrograde prejudices, super- 
stitious beliefs, and fanciful pusillanimity inspired by 
mystic and unwholesome education. This annihilates 
the faculties, empties and dries up the heart. It withers 
and debases the entire being into animalism. 

Ah ! it was a very cruel awakening for the students’ 
parents when they found that they were stanchly re- 
solved not to embrace the career of the church and felt 
an inclination for the bar. At first they opposed an ob- 
stinate resistance to the desire of their sons, but when 
they had exhausted all the entreaties, supplications, and 
objurgations possible— to say nothing of threats— they 
resigned themselves to the inevitable and gave way. 

Consequently it was decided that the youths should fin- 
ish their course at Eongem, before going to the capital for 
their law-studies. They waited with impatience for the 
happy moment when transportation to the City of Pleas* 
ure would free them from parental leading-strings and 
scholastic constraint — in one word, set them at liberty. 

Their teachers, keen observers, were not ignorant of 
the liberal principles and scepticism professed by Hor- 
ace and Robert. They had often attempted to check their 
dizzy rush to ruin and recover the tainted sheep. But 
their reiterated lectures had pitiably failed before the 
two students’ convictions and overwhelming repug- 
nance. Ergo they half -closed their eyes to the perverse 


24 


The Frolics of Cttpid, 


inclination of these hardened sinners, warned them that 
they were destined to perish in final impenitence, 
and limited themselves to watching that they did not 
make any prosetyles under their roof. 

The two reprobates knew how to profit by the indepen- 
dence tacitly granted them ; and, so as not to whet the 
jealousy of their brother-collegians and offer pernicious 
example, they always forced themselves to keep up ap- 
pearances. 

Besides, not to abuse their professors’ leniency, our 
heroes did them a service now and again by accepting the 
function of organists — Horace to the young ladies’ semi- 
nary, Robert to the college. It was not, to tell the truth, 
wholly for the purpose of pleasing or being useful to their 
superiors that they assumed the burden, but rather to 
satisfy their passion for music, and also to obtain more 
liberty. Indeed, at recreation-time, instead of playing 
at games, or associating with their fellows in tame and 
stupid chat, the friends would go and practise their 
favorite pieces on the organ, not always ultra-religious 
numbers. 

This faculty was chiefly precious to Horace, as he, igno- 
rant of the secret communication between the two institu- 
tions— or feigning so to be— was naturally obliged to go 
all the way around to reach the ladies’ school. And by 
quickening his pace he was enabled to make an excursion 
by the railroad depot and collect newspapers, cigars, 
liqueurs, and other dainties which he and his companion 
enjoyed afterwards. 

. The two organists brought to their posts real talent^ 
great abihty, "much fueling, and new theories. At the 
start, with their habitual enthusiasm, they worked stren- 
uously to expunge the bleating, monotonous Gregorian 
chants, as well as the insipid musical formulae, used from 
time out of mind in religio-scholastic ceremonies. By 
degrees, they had substituted broad, highly colored 
melody, the suggesti\’e music of our modern composers. 


The Frolics of C2ipid, 




It follows that, thanks to them, the Sunday and holiday 
services assumed a striking character— almost the propor- 
tions of a musical event. Outsiders longed for it and de- 
lighted in it beforehand, as if it were a grand concert 
executed by artists of renown. 

These performances took place in the two halls alter 
nately, and each official body was vain of the music of 
the great modern master. At the opening of the week, 
the principal would call the organist, as the case might 
be, into his or her study, and treat him to cake and wine 
whilst expressing desires and offering suggestions. One 
wanted Gounod’s music, the other championed Liszt or 
Mercadante; one solicited some unpublished morceau on 
the violoncello, the other begged a selection from the 
masterpieces of celebrities. Both showed in their desires 
the coquetry of young women and the jealousy of chil- 
dren. Each sought to be more showy and pompous than 
the rival. Consequently there were continual claims upon 
the two young musicians on whom depended their tri- 
umph. The latter always showed the utmost eagerness 
to gratify their patrons. But they never omitted to point 
out that success in musical productions, fraught with 
difficulties of execution, depends on numerous rehearsals, 
for which they judged the usual recreation-hours alto- 
gether inadequate. 

So it was agreed that, in such a cause, it was perfectly 
allowable to neglect ordinary studies to attain so noble and 
lofty an end. So they accorded them all the leisure they 
wanted, and offered private lessons to compensate them 
for the lost class-hours. Our two organists took care 
not to refuse, so that they gradually reached the point, to 
their high joy, of passing a large part of the day over the 
organ. 

In the college as in the seminary chapel, the instru- 
ment was placed in a loft over the entrance, reached by a 
narrow, spiral staircase. Behind the organ-case, properly 
speaking, was a roomy space furnished with a few chairs. 


26 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


movable desks, an oaken bookcase with shelves, a table 
of the same on which stood large brass candlesticks and 
instruments of music hung up on the wall and wainscot- 
ing. 

} Everything was scrupulously clean in this snuggery ; 
the brazen candelabra shot up bright flame, the carefully 
waxed floor shone like limpid water under the tawny 
sunbeams, and the old oak had the dead, stern polish’of 
steel mirrors. 

The comrades liked dwelling in this strange nook, where 
mysterious silence reigned and a soft, mystic glow floated. 
As soon as they entered they forgot the school and its 
annoyances, like the world and its turpitude, and felt the 
egotistical delight of a house-owner— the sweet affection 
of a traveller resuming possession of his home after a 
long absence and calling up anew so many memories. 

This room seemed to be really theirs, and always theirs 
alone. They walked about in it with the air of masters. 
If any of the teachers looked in, they received them and 
did the honors with dignity and affability, and with the 
same authority as if they owned the building. 

Here they stayed entire hours, often improvising on the 
organ; or, indolently leaning against the woodwork and 
gazing into the dimly lighted nave, they would revel in 
repose, — that delicious sensation of ceasing to think. 

Oftener than his friend, Horace came into this peaceful 
resting-place. His more pensive imagination better 
appreciated and cherished these hours of exquisite lazi- 
ness or voluptuous meditation. His presence was more 
frequently demanded ; for, besides playing the organ, he 
gave singing lessons to the young ladies. Three times a 
week those whose vocal chords were attuned by generous 
Nature assembled in the chapel under the active eye of a 
governess, and for a couple of hours repeated the pieces 
to be sung on the following Sunday. 

These rehearsals much pleased the young student ; he 
felt extremely enlivened by the sprightly girls brushing 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


27 


by him with their fresh, roguish faces, and hearing their 
pretty chatter, sweet as that of disputing birds. 

The younger girls inspired in him a kind of paternal 
tenderness; the older ones, the masked pleasure of a 
burglar before a jeweller’s window. He paid particular 
attention to these latter, the rascal ! studying them with 
relish like a dilettante^ scanning each facial line, feasting 
on the budding contours, lovingly rounding out the 
corsage under the fine black cashmere, the promise of 
development, and feeling a refined gladness in trying to 
guess which of the buds would become the fairest rose. 
He mentally set aside those incurably uncomely ; reserved 
those who might amend, reasoning and fortifying his 
opinions as if he were presiding at a beauty show and 
was in fear of committing a fiagrant injustice; lastly, 
yielding to a boyish whim, he marked down the fiower of 
the flock, the most winning and superb of the creatures, 
to whom, if he were a Sultan and these his Bayaderes, he 
would throw the handkerchief. 

He had no hesitation, no embarrassment in determining. 
This lovely girl was long before selected by him. On 
the very first day when she appeared in the choir he had 
conceived that she was supremely beautiful. Her deep 
black eyes would disconcert anybody. They were turn 
by turn tender and tyrannous — even celestial. Her luxu- 
riant tresses were of a bright golden color, and her lashes ! 
a dark brown, contrasted strikingly with her glorious 
hair. And her figure I It was graceful as a fawn, and 
most harmoniously outlined beneath her dark serge con- 
vent uniform. 

Yes, at first blush she revealed a captivating loveliness, 
that immediately eclipsed her companions— like the sun 
when he suddenly dashes his golden morning light over 
the horizon, tarnishing, paling, and banishing the modest, 
twinkling stars. 

She appeared to be only sixteen, but she offered all the 
exquisite attractions and bewitching seducdveness of the 


28 


The Frolics of Ctipid, 


full-grown woman ; so naive was her glance, and so en- 
ticingly developed in their flowing lines were her neck, 
limbs, and body. Pure and supple dignity vied with 
involuntary coquetry in her dignified step, bearing, and 
gesture. 

At every rehearsal Horace became freshly absorbed in 
his contemplation of the young singer. On each occasion 
he discovered new perfections. He had not yet admired 
the delicacy and marble whiteness of the slender neck; 
the dimples, adorably piquant, at the corners of the 
mouth; the slightly moist lips, that seemed to whistle 
for their like; the pearly, shell-like ears; the rebellious 
ringlets, tracing a fine golden lace on nape and temples. 
In short, a thousand delightful details were suddenly 
revealing themselves to his wondering eyes and filling 
his heart with delicious intoxication. 

He acknowledged that he had never seen a more per- 
fect and resplendent beauty, even in his dreams of the 
ideal. He had already, in the company of his friend 
Eobert, drunk of the popular cups, enfovering and ine- 
briating. He, who had fancied he had run the whole gamut 
of variety and tasted all the world’s enjoyments, was 
seized by the unspeakably delicious anguish of a higher 
sentiment than amours of passage afford. 

As she possessed a very fine soprano voice, it was she 
who took the solo parts in his cantatas, many of which 
were written expressly for her, as the young organist 
often composed, by the request of the lady principal, 
some piece appropriate to the occasion. 

All the worthies of the town and vicinity received invi- 
tations to these sacred concerts, till, soon, the upper ten 
of Villefeuilles considered it “quite the thing” to hear 
the music at the Ursulines’. Maestro Durien’s talent was, 
therefore, held in high esteem by the nobles and gentry^ 
and, above all, by the principal of the school— an incura- 
ble melomaniac, who added kind and sincere friendship 
to her lively admiration for the organist. 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


29 


Our hero profited by her sympathy, and by the confi- 
dence he inspired in the other teachers, to make excur- 
sions into the wine-cellars, which he had heard were 
generously supplied, and take away bottles of famous 
vintages to be divided with bis friend Robert. 

As can be seen, the students were not too miserable in 
the college. Besides, they tried to divert themselves as 
much as possible during the few months remaining to 
them, and executed with marvellous audacity and cool- 
ness those capers suggested to them by the independence 
of their character, habitual recklessness, and the temerity 
befitting youth. 


30 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


CHAPTEE III. 

THE KEY— TO HER FAVOR. 

One night, a few days after their first adventure, Horace 
and Robert were musing, as they smoked cigars, noncha- 
lantly outstretched on the cool grass in the most retired 
spot in the seminary garden. 

A serene sky of transparent sapphire, softly silvered 
by the timid moonbeams, appeared in patches through 
the green foliage of the huge trees. A slight breeze 
bowed the branches of the hoary chestnuts and syca- 
mores and whisked the leaves around them in joyous 
revel. 

The atmosphere had an Oriental clearness, and was 
saturated with woodland fragrance. The unutterable 
calm of this poetic landscape and the loveliness of the 
night had steeped the friends in a dulcet revery. 

As in a dream they listened to the warbling of a night- 
ingale which, with the timid rustling of the zephyr in the 
foliage, alone disturbed the silence. 

Robert was the first to shake off the gentle melancholy. 
He carelessly tapped the ashes from his pipe, treated 
himself to a stretch, and said to his friend : 

‘‘I say, Horace, don’t you think this contemplation 
of Nature taking her ease is pretty tolerable ?” 

‘ ‘ Certainly, Bob ! The gratification is the more precious 
because it is prohibited. ” 

“Talking of the venerable Nereus, suppose we go and 
see what lesson he is giving the Radegondes,” 


The Frolics of Ctipid, 


31 


‘‘No, my friend, spare me, this evening, a sight so gro- 
tesque, so far from appetizing. Rather let us rove about 
the park.” 

“I agree. The stroll will facilitate the hard and slow 
digestion of the salted cod and insipid greens which they 
constantly make us swallow.” 

The two friends wandered indolently, arm in arm, 
through the lonely paths. The park was truly royal 
with its carefully gravelled walks, bordered by hedges of 
chestnuts and planes which expanded their luxuriance of 
glossy leaves towards a common meeting-place overhead. 
Flower-plots of every variety and tint scattered brill- 
iant spangles and sent up languishing odors ; large foun- 
tain-basins into which a quantity of jets fell with a 
pleasant tinkle ; fountains of sculptured marble, elegant 
colonnades, rustic pavilions, seats screened by the ver- 
dant giants, and numerous mythological statues. 

It was clear that some munificent noble had squandered 
a fortune on this retreat, and that the seminary board 
had not hesitated to go to the expense of keeping it in 
order— as well they might, when, in his death-bed remorse, 
the donor had bequeathed it all to them, with a fund for 
its maintenance. 

The explorers came to a halt where crystal water 
sprang, seething in snowy cascades, over mossy rocks. 
These sent upon their cheeks such sweet and cooling 
spray that they lingered. In the middle of a transparent 
lake was an islet which seemed to be composed of one 
immense clump of trees: poplars sprang up, defiant and 
slender; willows lashed, with their green tresses, the 
white fagade of a Grecian temple. 

The two adventurers were seized with an irrepressible 
desire to skim the water and visit this building. A dewy, 
grassy staircase led to a landing-stage, beside which a 
yacht and a skiff gently rocked. They stepped into the 
latter, cast off the ropes, and each taking a scull they 
leisurely rowed over the limpid pool, 


The Frolics of Ctipid. 


On landing at the islet they walked straight up to the 
temple. Constructed in the Neo-Greek style, the minia-^ 
ture edifice rose severely, with high columns adhering to 
a triangular front, magnificently ornamented with sculp- 
tures and capped with an elegant cupola — a toy Pantheon. 

Horace and his friend ascended several very broad 
white stone steps to the splendid portals of steel -banded 
oak. To their great but happy surprise the door was not 
locked. They pushed it open timidly and penetrated a 
darkly shaded vestibule. 

Eobert struck a match and lighted a piece of taper 
which happened to be in his pocket. 

Both advanced, and together they uttered a cry of as- 
tonishment and admiration. They stood in a bathroom 
of incomparable richness. But their amazement be- 
came prodigious when they passed through a series of 
alike sumptuous halls, upholstered in plush of exquisite 
colors; all fitted up in the most refined luxury. 

“Confound it, we have walked into the Temple of 
Love I” said Eobert, when he had recovered from his 
amazement. 

“That’s true; and here has been the goal of many 
gallant pilgrimages.” Observed Horace. “The old girls 
and boys dropped into a fine berth when this property 
was acquired by them. Love of art prevents their letting 
it fall into neglect— and perhaps another kind of love 
prevents its falling into disuse.” 

Gladdened by their discovery, they slowly recrossed 
the lake and resumed their promenade. After a quarter 
of an hour’s walk they found themselves near to the 
little postern in the partition- wall. 

The cathedral bell sounded midnight. 

Though little wearied by their exercise, the night- 
roamers agreed to regain their dormitory. They had 
opened the door noiselessly, and were slowly closing it 
behind them, with the keen regret and deep hesitation of 
parting from one’s beloved, when at the same instant the 


The Frolics of Qipid, 


33 


door was violently dashed open and a girl sviddenly 
appeared on the threshold. 

On seeing the two men blocking up her way, she uttered 
a cry of fright and abruptly receded. This movement 
started her comb so as to unloose the cataract of golden 
hair, which streamed over her sombre gown like a beau- 
tiful silken veil. She appeared to the students fair as a 
virginal Madonna of Raphael. 

Horace instantly recognized this unique beauty as Ro- 
maine Durocher, his soloist, and addressing her he said : 

“ Banish all alarm, Mdlle. Romaine, for you have before 
you only two poor boys who have stolen out of college to 
take a turn in the park. We should be sorry indeed to 
spoil your own walk — ” 

She was silent; blushing in confusion, and he more 
pressingly proceeded : 

“Come, come, cheer up, I conjure you. We can keep 
counsel, and, whatever the motive bringing you here, we 
give you our word of honor that nobody shall know we 
met. ” 

Calmed by this speech, the lovely girl rewarded him 
with a sweet glance, and murmured a timid and laconic 
“ Thanks !” Robert, who had hung a little back, came up 
in his turn, and said in the careless, ironical drawl familiar 
to him: 

‘‘ I undertake to say that you fancied, like us, that it is 
infinitely preferable to invade the cool park than repose 
in the enervating, choking dormitory.” 

The young vocalist heaved a sigh, but did not reply. 

“I am persuaded that it was not the prospect of a 
promenade that led the young lady here, but rather some 
serious, imperative necessity,” intervened Horace, inter- 
estedly. 

“Indeed, sir, the motive of the step I attempt is very 
serious,” faltered the girl, in an undecided tone, looking 
round her with affright. 

‘‘Have no fear about being discovered,” continued 


34 


The Frolics of Qipid, 


Durien, quickly interpreting her apprehensive glance; 
“the grounds are quite deserted at this late hour, and 
Mdlle. Eadegonde will be too busily engaged to think for 
an instant of coming out. So you may, in full assurance, 
execute your design, and dispose of us if my friend and I 
can further its accomplishment.” 

“ Really, gentlemen, would you oblige me? But I think 
that I could never repay the obligation.” 

“The great pleasure we should feel in obliging you 
shall be a rich recompense,” replied Horace. 

“ I accept eagerly; but perhaps it will be hard for you 
to realize what I desire.” 

“ We’ll attempt to do what is impossible,” impetuously 
broke forth Horace. 

“Yes, we are ready to do astonishing deeds to be 
agreeable to you,” supported Robert. 

The girl’s face had become serene once more. Her 
large black eyes shot out lightnings, a joyous smile 
curled her lips and partly disclosed the double row of 
little pearls and dimpled her rosy cheeks. 

“I thank you, gentlemen, most sincerely for your offer 
to oblige me,” she said warmly. Happy with vanity at 
seeing the young men humbly waiting for her to deign 
to make her desire known, she instantly added: “To 
show you, gentlemen, that I trust you, I will make you 
judges of my conduct, and the confidants of the adven- 
ture which has induced me to come out-of-doors at this 
late hour.” 

“We are listening to you,” said the pair, drawing 
nearer. 

Collecting her thoughts, Romaine resumed, in a caress- 
ing voice and very rapidly : 

“ Kjiow, then, that one of my good friends from in- 
fancy has been hurriedly summoned to her mother’s 
death-bed. Our governess, Mdlle. Radegonde, the wick- 
edst and cunningest hypocrite that can be imagined, has- 
tened to take advantage of my schoolfellow’s absence to 


The Frolics of Ctipid, 


3S 


make a ridiculous and minute search in her room. After 
ferreting everywhere, she discovered in a secret drawer 
in my friend’s trunk a handsome ebony casket, which 
she has vainly tried to open with the quantity of keys 
placed at her disposition by the locksmith. Very much 
put out, she called me into her room this evening after 
studies and, knowing that the absentee kept no secrets 
from me, she peremptorily ordered me to tell her what 
the box contained. I stoutly answered that it was a 
prayer-book ; but I must confess to you, gentlemen, that 
I told a fib— a big, white lie, for the little coffer conceals 
some letters received by my fiiend from her cousin, be- 
trothed to her and madly beloved, whom she intends to 
marry on leaving school.” 

At this passage of her story the speaker blushed and 
darted a furtive and timorous glance at her auditors. 

“Why should you be ashamed of the tender sentiment 
felt by your friend ? Is it not truly logical and happily 
natural? Oh, how deep is your error, Mile. Durocher, if 
you believe it is forbidden to obey the sweetest law of 
Nature — to love one another ! Why, love is the supreme 
bliss of this painful existence — the only thing consoling 
us to life and exalting us to the equality of the angels,” 
vehemently exclaimed Horace. 

“My friend is right,” added Laforest; “love is the 
principle of life. Do not therefore feel shame or confu- 
sion in speaking about it. I assure you,” concluded the 
youth in brusque effusion, “that your friend, by the 
single fact that she loves, has won all my interest — con- 
quered my esteem and sympathy.” 

Without replying to the interruptions, the pretty stu- 
dent, whose emotion had subsided, thus resumed her 
tale: 

“ ‘ The Elephant, ’ judging that the box was too carefully 
secreted in the chest and too closely fastened to contain 
simply a devout work, declared to me with a sour smile 
that PUe would soon establish the truth of my allegation. 


36 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


So she called the man-of-all-work at our school and or- 
dered him to make a key, which he promised in my pres- 
ence to have ready before noon to-morrow. I retired, 
affecting to be scornfully indifferent ; but you, gentlemen, 
may easily imagine the extremely painful dread I feel 
at the idea of the scandal which these imprudent letters 
will create throughout the institution. With this fear in 
my heart, my indignation raging against that odious, re- 
pugnant Radegonde, my maddened imagination shows 
me her triumphant grin as she opens the casket and vic- 
toriously unfolds the love-letters. She will read them, 
her face illumined with wicked glee; we shall all be 
gathered in the large room to have ‘ the ignominious be- 
havior of Mile. Celine Parentie ’ published to us. Charity, 
as well as modesty, should oblige her to hush it up but 
she will take it to authorize her to expel the perverse 
creature unless out of regard for her good and honor- 
able parents and to spare them grief, she condescends 
to keep the culprit — ay, and keep her secluded in the dark 
room, on bread and water.” 

“ Infamous!” exclaimed Horace. 

The abominable prudes ! They ought to be ducked I” 
declared Robert. 

Mile. Durocher appeared satisfied by the anger her 
words had excited in her audience. She continued in a 
more communicative strain: 

Yes, I pictured the teacher’s spiteful triumph, and my 
friend’s prolonged sufferings in penitence, with such ex- 
actness that my anger overcame my terrors. I resolved, 
at the very great risk of getting myself involved, to 
baffle the governess and stifle the disgrace she would 
certainly be happy to see befall us. To realize this bold 
design, I must procure a key to enable me to open the 
coffer this very night, in my friend’s room take out, the 
letters, and replace them by a harmless book, before 
locking all up as before. So I hastily took a wax im- 
pression of the lock, and waited anxiously till all the girls 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


37 


went to sleep. Knowing that Mile. Radegonde was in 
her private room, I slipped from the dormitory and out 
into the grounds, where I knew of the secret issue to the 
college. When you met me, I was speeding to the jani- 
tor, a kind, obliging old fellow, to entreat him to run to 
some locksmith in the town and get a key made aftur 
the mould.” 

Her luminous eyes were fixed questioningly upon thci 
youths, to implore some advice, or the assistance they 
had so generously promised her shortly before. But 
they seemed little disposed to speak, avoiding the sympa- 
thetically inquiring glance; and their piteous attitude 
and long-drawn faces clearly attested their indecision. 

“If you only knew how afraid I am to go to the jani- 
tor’s” faltered Romaine, on seeing them stubbornly pre- 
serve silence ; ^ ‘ the way is far from familiar to me, and it 
now seems to me that some of your teachers may see me. 
Oh, I should be grateful to you for going there while I 
await you, hidden under the leaves !” 

“ An impracticable plan,” said Laforest at last. “You 
forget that the janitor would be asleep long ago, and to 
arouse him would compel such a racket as would set the 
peaceful college topsy-turvy. Besides, the old chap, not- 
withstanding his goodness, might not do us the service 
desired, as everybody goes to bed with the chicks in this 
hole, and the only locksmith will have been snoring these 
several hours.” 

“ Gracious !” sighed the girl. “But I must have that 
key. I will not go back to school without it.” 

In speaking, Romaine held her head upright, stamped 
with her little foot, and assumed a superbly haughty 
attitude. An expression of fierce energy was upon her 
empurpled cheeks, dilated her nostrils, enflamed her eyes, 
and gave her countenance a weird attraction. Her un- 
common beauty thus became more irresistible than before. 

Durien could not take his eyes off her. She seemed to 
have suddenly increased in stature. He considered he^ 


38 


The Frolics of Ctipid. 


very much a woman ; and his enslaved glance dwelt on 
her mantle of hair, her great velvety eyes, her heav- 
ing chest chafing under the tight-fitting bodice which 
oppressed her; his gaze descended to her little white 
hands which clutched and wrathfully crushed the twigs. 

I Our organist thought that he had never beheld Eomaine 
more lovely than now. At that juncture her eyes were 
fixed on him, till, entirely subjugated, he grasped her 
hand abruptly, and ejaculated, in a decided, enthusiastic 
voice : 

“You shall have the key before one hour. Mile. 
Durocher !” 

“ Indeed!” she uttered gleefully. 

“Eh? what are you saying?” said Robert, aghast. 

“ I say, dear boy that we are going to scale the garden 
wall to see the only locksmith, and return with the pre- 
cious key, though we have to set fire to his house to make 
him open the door.” 

“ The project is so daring that it wins your enterprising 
friend. How we shall startle the quiet old fogies of the 
town ! Very likely they will believe the end of the world 
has come, and will get a fit.” 

“I care little about frightening the old fossils, when 
the question is to help my charming leading lady !” 

“A great help, M. Durien, which I shall never forget.” 

The two speakers glanced covertly at each other, and 
both colored. 

“ Let me have the wax impression,” said Horace in a 
matter-of-fact tone. “Very good. Now kindly follow 
us, while we conduct you to a pretty nook in the semi- 
- nary grounds, the Nymphs’ Resort, where you can await 
our return without the faintest fear of being discovered.” 

The fair songstress, docile from contentment, accom- 
panied her champions to the designated place. 

“ May you succeed ! ” she prayed as they departed. 

“Oh, we shall do it,” returned Robert, “if only to 


The Fi'olics of C 7 ipid, 39 

prove that ‘ What woman wants woman gets’— or rather, 
what Romaine wants Horace will obtain I ” 

The smiling girl watched them disappear at the bend 
of a walk. For a minute she still heard their footsteps. 
Then they ceased and the isolation grew around her until 
it became awful, and she became lonely and despondent. 

Fortunately, the young man’s image drove away the 
spectres her imagination had conjured up, and she 
ceased to feel impatience at the prolonged absence. 

All of a sudden, hurried steps sounded noisily near her 
and aroused her from her dreams. In fear she hid be- 
hind a statue, as though to place herself under its pro- 
tection: but soon she uttered a brief exclamation of glad- 
ness. The students were before her, smiling. 

“Here’s a whole bunch of keys,” said Horace. ‘‘They 
all suit the impression, so that no doubt one or another 
will open the casket. ” 

“We did not get them without some trouble, though,” 
added Robert. “Only fancy that the confounded lock- 
smith would not open the door to us, and was making 
ready to throw something else than a key at our heads, 
when Horace had the bright idea of saying we were de- 
tective police officers who commanded him to come down 
in the name of the law.” 

“Oh, gentlemen, believe in my lasting gratitude!” fer- 
vently said the girl, as she spontaneously held out both 
hands. 

Laforest quietly pressed the warm, silky, slender hand; 
but the less fastidious Durien squeezed his capture with 
a lingering grip. 

“We shall be most happy to learn the sequel of this 
little adventure. Will you let us hear?” he entreated 
with coaxing voice and look. 

“ I am willing; but how can I do so?” 

“At the next rehearsal in three days, or rather to- 
morrow, if you prefer it. To-morrow begins the month 
of May, when we give floral concerts with many can- 


40 


The Frolics of Ctipid. 


tatas. Your presence in the choir will he quite indis- 
pensable, and you may easily drop me a word on th® 
matter.” 

“I promise.” 

In the clear starlight the eyes of Eomaine and Horace 
met. Love declared itself in each glance. Secretly they 
trembled with emotion. But suddenly the cathedral bell, 
awakening the silent night, announced that it was two 
o’clock, and sharply recalled them to the grim present. 

“Gracious me!” cried the young girl, “I must hurry 
to my room.” 

“ I’ll wager,” said the young organist, “that you can- 
not find the homeward path.” 

“Upon my word, no! The park is so large, and this 
place so out of the way in the inextricable maze, that — ” 

“Would you like me to see you to the main walk?” 

“I entreat you.” 

“ Then come. This is a short cut.” 

She shook Eohert’s hand in a friendly way, and, thank- 
ing him once more, disappeared with her guide. Durien 
walked first, parting with jealous hands the flexible, rebel- 
lious switches and tangled sprigs. At every instant he 
turned round with solicitude towards Eomaine, to see if 
the boughs did not lash her face or hands, or twine in her 
hair. 

He longed to spare her the roughness of the road by 
taking her up in his arms and affectionately bearing her 
closely pressed on his heart, like a sleeping babe. 

She gave him a sweet and kindly smile, for she divined 
his desire and thanked him for it. 

At length they arrived in a narrow aisle which ran 
between rows of tall trees arching overhead. Without 
saying a word, Durieu caught her hand, and the two, en- 
chanted, sauntered up the way. The trees fanned them, 
and the coquettish and mocking moon shot silver shafts 
through the vault. 

From time to time the girl favored her guide with side- 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


41 


long glances. He strode along, proud and dignified, but 
nil his eyes divulged the great felicity of his soul. This un- 
spoken avowal caused the girl so sweet a joy that she 
could not manage to master the quivering of her hand in 
l^that-of the youth ; so that he could in his turn glance at 
her unawares and inwardly rejoice at her emotion, 
rli i reached the main avenue, where the schooh 

houses loomed up some hundred yards ahead. 

‘ ‘ Already !” muttered the organist. ‘ ‘ We have walked 
^quickly.” 

* “ I beg your pardon. I assure you to the contrary.” 

They had stopped short and were looking at one an- 
other, deeply moved and much constrained. During 
I two long minutes, hand in hand, they remained silent, 
till at last Eomaine, with more self-control, stammered 
with an effort : 

“Oh, Monsieur Durien, were it not for you, what an 
extravagant blunder I should have committed ! How am 
I to show my gratitude for what you have done for me?'’ 

“ It is you who have obliged me, for to you I owe 
the sweetest joy my heart has ever experienced. But if 
you were the most generous, as you are the fairest of the 
fair, I should beseech—” But here his voice was stifled 
so that he could not flnish the sentence, 

“What would you ask?'’ 

“ No, I dare not. Forget what I said,” he murmured. 
“Come, come, finish; are you afraid of me?” 

Horace still held his tongue, but his indiscreet eyes 
spoke for him, fixed greedily on the rose which Eomaine 
wore amid her tresses. She understood the look, blushed 
as red as the flower, and without hesitation plucked it 
from her fair hair, swiftly laid it in the young man’s 
hand, and fled as lightly as a swallow. He had no time 
to speak or to thank her. For a second he thought of 
running after her to repair the omission and, more than 
all, to proclaim his excessive happiness ; but she was gone, 




42 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


and soon he beheld her disappearing under the arch: 
way of the building. 

Then he lifted the rose and kissed it passionately. Oh, 
the sweet perfume, the warm, intoxicating breath of 
those petals! He fancied he was kissing the donor’s 
adorable little mouth itself. His lips were on fire, and 
all his limbs shuddered and stiffened excitedly. Finally 
he lodged the precious flower in his bosom and returned 
to his friend, who was awaiting him at the Nymph’s 
statue. 

But he walked slowly, trying to step where she had 
tt*od, as on some pious pilgrimage. He recognized the 
shrubs he had parted and the inextricable tangles of bram- 
bles which forced them to go roundabout. Here they 
had stopped; there, the blonde darhng had stumbled 
upon a stone and would have fallen if he had not hastened 
to sustain her; there had she given him her smile. He 
looked like a simpleton, seeking for some token of her— a 
fragment of ribbon, or muslin— anything— which he 
would have kissed with the ecstatic ardor bestowed on 
a holy relic. But he was not rewarded. 

When he returned to the solitary spot where the 
Nymph mused in immortal nudity, he found his friend 
stretched at full length on the stone bench. Impetuously 
approaching him, he shook his hand as though he had 
not seen him for several days. 

“ Tired out, old chap, eh?” 

I’m just dying of lassitude and want of sleep — that’s 
all.” 

“ Then let us cut to bed.” 

The young man rose stiffly and took his comrade’s arm. 

“Let me tell you I consider that girl amazingly lovely ! 
Upon my soul, I never saw a more captivating creature ! 
I hope you will try to tell her love-stories.” 

Horace was enkindled and a flood of speech welled 
upon his lips, an avalanche that Eobert anticipated. 

“All right,” he said with his acute smile. “You are 


The Frolics of C^ipid, 


43 


going to say that you have already taken a great place 
in the pretty dear’s heart. Very good, my lad ; you shall 
tell me all about it, but not yet. I am too weary to listen 
to you and understand you.” His sentence ended in a 
long yawn, and Durien thought it as well to defer his 
confidence until the morrow. Our friends silently re- 
gained the dormitory, animated by divers sentiments. ^ 

La Forest, really fatigued, only thought of the sweet re- 
pose to be tasted in extending himself upon the bed under 
the coarse white sheets. But Horace did not feel weari- 
ness. He was vivified by the recollection of the charming 
girl whose magnetic glance he still saw, whose silvery 
voice he still heard, and whose white velvet hand he still 
felt pressed in his own. 

After wishing his school-fellow good-night, he mechan- 
ically undressed and lay down. But all through the 
night Romaine’s witching vision despotically haunted 
him, and he had not yet fallen asleep when the alarm- 
bell announced the awakening hour. 


44 


The Frolics of Citpid. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE PROGRESS OP THE PASSION. 

On rising so abruptly, Horace, drowsy now from ex- 
haustion, could not explain why a great gladness buoyed 
up his heart. He dressed automatically, but soon recalled 
that his remembrance of the night was not a dream. 
Besides, the girl had given him a rose which he found in 
his pocket-book. He inhaled its fading aroma again and 
became radiant. 

He recollected that he should see her that same 
evening, and the thought filled his heart with delight; 
qualified, alas! by fiery impatience and the anguish of 
dim uncertainty. He anxiously wondered whether she 
had succeeded in opening the casket, and would she dare 
inform him during the performance. Mentally he re- 
peated : “It will be hard to wait.” 

He conjectured with implacable justice, for the day was 
exasperatingly monotonous, and long as a night to Don 
Juan without meeting a pretty girl. He almost lost all 
hope of seeing the sunset. 

Finally he broke away from studies, two hours before 
he should, and went to the organ in its pious, secluded 
place. But he had hardly more than placed his fingers 
on the keys, before an indefinable melancholy inspired 
him and he ceased playing. 

He was roused from his torpor by the lighting up of the 
chapel. He looked at his watch and saw it was seven 
o’clock. 

“ Time does fiy in this place!” he said to himself, as he 
sprang up, ran to the bookcase, and selected some sheets 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


45 


of music which he placed on the organ-rest. Then, warily 
drawing his chair near that of the pretty choir-girl, he 
anxiously awaited her coming. 

Suddenly the chapel doors opened and the school- girls 
skipped into the place. Their teachers followed them 
and took up positions like sentinels. Sharp, dissimilar 
steps sounded on the organ-loft stairs. Some were hur- 
ried, alert, and so light that they seemed but to kiss the 
stairs; others, heavier, slow, and thunderous, vibrated 
like volleys of cannon, and made the old oak staircase 
groan and squeak under the tumultuous tramping. 

Suddenly Mile. Durocher appeared. A gay smile illu- 
mined her face and gave it a lively expression. 

The organist immediately guessed that she had good 
news to announce to him, and he advanced towards her 
and took her hand. 

“ Well?” he questioned. 

Hush!” she laconically said, laying her finger on her 
mouth, at the same time looking cautiously towards the 
stairway entrance. 

He divined that the governesses were coming, so he 
instantly feigned to be profoundly absorbed in his music ; 
and it was only when Mile. Radegonde had come close 
beside him that he raised his head with a capital simula- 
tion of astonishment, and bowed with respectful gravity 
to the pupil and teacher. The latter was too much out of 
breath to speak, so she answered his salutation with a 
broad smile and a friendly tap on the shoulder. Then, 
having recovered breath, she exclaimed with burlesque 
indignation : 

“ What a dreadfully ill-built staircase!” 

“Yes, it is villainously narrow,” said the young man, 
not thinking so in the least, but seeking to be agreeable 
to the fat creature. 

“ J^ist what I have pointed out to our superioress, who 
did not agree with me; and I suggested that my super- 
vision could be accomplished quite as well from the floor,” 


46 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


added the far from slender idol of Prof. Nereus in a sulky 
tone, in which was betrayed her spite at not having been 
favorably listened to, and the sovereign scorn of an un- 
derstrapper for a superior. 

The young lovers had to bite their lips to refrain from 
laughing. 

Eadegonde grumbled a few words further to rebuke 
her superior’s stupefying inexperience; then she rolled 
with laughable oscillations to her chair, which our Horace 
bad intelligently taken care to place as far as possible 
from his stand, and heavily settled down in it. In a few 
minutes she opened a large book of devotions with osten- 
tation and seemed to read it; but she was in reality 
heedful to all that went on, observing her young wards 
in their least and simplest movements. 

Hidden behind the high oaken balustrade, staring 
through the perforations, she could see all beneath with- 
out being seen. So she liked to post herself in the organ- 
loft, despite the hardship in squeezing her voluminous 
body up the little winding stairs. 

Durien profited by the watcher’s distraction to ex- 
change a cunning smile of complicity with the young 
lady. But the programme commenced, and she was to 
lead in the first cantata. 

As she stood beside the organist, she suddenly leaned 
towards him as if to listen to his directions, and whis- 
pered in his ear : 

“I easily opened the casket and substituted a book for 
the letters. Thanks ! a thousand times, thanks !” 

The happy Horace glowed. He delighted in her voice. 
He saw her face coloring and her fine black bodice undu- 
lating gently. At each instant her warm and fondling 
little hand crept closer to, sometimes touching his, and 
her breath mingled with his own, mild and balmy as the 
evening breeze still heated with the sun's last beams. He 
felt almost as if he were in contact with her. 

Both were much agitated, and the conviction seized 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


47 


them that they were forever bound to each other. No 
longer did their glances avoid each other, but sought, 
crossed, and met in enjoyable communion. 

Seizing an opportunity, he rapidly bent over Romaine’s 
hand and passionately brought it to his lips. She turned 
rosy-red, but, appeared in no way vexed by the sudden 
liberty. 

When the practice was over and the school girls had 
departed, Durien quitted the organ and hastened to join 
his friend Robert in the college refectory. 

“Well, I own that Mile. Durocher is fabulously lovely, 
and is endowed with infinite grace and superior wit. So 
I am far from being astonished at your growing passion 
for her. Apparently you have managed to inspire lively 
sympathy in her; circumstances favor you in procur- 
ing frequent interviews; so that it should be easy for you 
to wholly please the charmer and win her by communi- 
cating your ardor. What a delightful future is yours, 
you lucky dog!’’ 

So spoke Laforest to his chum, after the latter's revela- 
tion of his progress. The two sat at a small table at one 
end of the eating-room, and were finishing dinner. The 
other pupils sat by fours at tables elsewhere in the large 
hall. 

“As you seem inclined to respect the idol, I suppose you 
will carry on a platonic love like a Gothic troubadour, and 
admire her from a distance, as one contemplates the stars. 
Act as you please ; but I warrant that you will repent 
hereafter your inconceivable silliness and foolish scruples. ” 

“How clearly your reasoning proves that you are 
ignorant of real love 1” protested Durien in a tone of com- 
miseration. But, as Laforest was an inveterate, irrecon- 
cilable adversary of marriage, he did not intend to boast 
of his intentions to make his beloved his wife. 

The young sceptic would have prettily fiagellated him 
with his sarcasms. 

“ Go to the devil with your naughty theories!” he said. 


48 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


“Give me his address and I will.” 

Eobert got up from the table, mockingly humming 
the “Carmen” habanera,, and leaving his comrade in 
revery, he proceeded towards the large class-room to 
hear a hvely lecture on “The Obligations of the Rising 
Generations,” and subsequently retired to his couch under 
the guidance of the vigilant Nereus. 

May, the flowery, feminine month, neared its end, and 
Diirieu felt keen regi^et and disappointment at its rapid 
flight. It seemed as if he were losing his sweetest illusions, 
or the darling who was his only joy. The sweet spring 
month had furnished him with numberless sensations of 
delight whose tender memory would be preserved for- 
ever. 

Every evening he had the pretty solo singer's company ; 
he spoke with her and was entranced by her melodious 
voice, her magnetic glance, and her supple and exceptional 
form. Every evening he left a kiss on her rosy hand. 
At first she had winced in affidght and glanced reprov- 
ingly at the bold fellow, but he had met her gaze so 
respectfully that she had been overcome, and finally 
would let him pay his tribute in the commanding attitude 
of a sovereign receiving the homage of her nobles. Almost 
every time was marked by some happy event. „ Once he 
had slipped into her hand a crimson double pink which 
she had blushingly accepted in silence, but her eyes 
beamed a revelation of the pleasure she felt. 

The next day she handed him a modest pansy, which he 
carried away and cherished as an inestimable jewel. 

One evening, when Radegonde was absent through in- 
disposition, the pair could freely exchange confidences, 
and Durien heard the dolefully simple story of Romaine 
Durocher’s life. She had a happy childhood, but the 
death of her parents had left an agonizing void and the 
sharp apprehension was before her of having to reside, on 
the completion of her sixteenth year, which would be her 
last in the gonvent, with an uncle and guardian, Com- 


The Frolics of CupicL 


49 


mandant du Vivray, whom she knew hardly anything 
about, and who appeared to trouble himself little about 
her existence. 

As you see, it was not without good grounds that our 
hero regretted the laughing month of May, so propitious 
to his love, but with which would fly the term of re- 
hearsals affording him these blissful interviews. 

“ The die is cast,” he said to himself; “but I must see 
my Romaine without witnesses, and I shall set to work 
to so arrange matters.” 

Success is the son of audacity. 

He resolved to consult with the ingenious Robert to 
devise some practical method of realizing his desire. 

With great punctuality, Prof. Nereus continued to pay 
his eleven-o'clock evening visits to the Elephant, and, in 
a few minutes after each departure, Robert and Horace, 
with no less regularity, used to steal forth into the sem- 
inary grounds. 

One evening the young gentlemen were meandering 
under the leafy canopy which, like a fairy, the moon 
gemmed with opals. From here they directed their steps 
to the lake, where they unmoored the skiff and rowed 
upon the smooth water. It mirrored the flickering 
constellations, whilst they drank in the cool restfulness 
of the night, their idle hands dangling in the ripple. 

They landed on the islet, visited the Temple of Love, 
and came away slowly. Then they sat on the spot where 
Romaine had awaited them, and smoked and talked 
philosophy, surrounded by the aroma of roses. 

“ I am thinking, my friend, that it will be very diffi- 
cult for me to converse of love with my charming Ro- 
maine, now that the month has gone by and the musical 
festivities are over for a year. ” 

Laforest burst out laughing. 

“Come, come! So you are always thinking of your 
prima donna, are you?” he railed. “ Why, hang it all! 
you can get in a word Sunday, can’t you?” 


50 The Frolics of Cupid. 

‘‘You know well that there is not a moment of tran- 
quillity.” 

“ Well, there’s the rehearsals.” 

“It is impossible to profit by them; for the teachers 
plant themselves, one or another, between me and the 
girl and never take their eyes off.” 

“The deuce! Then you must stop such embarrassing 
and over-scrupulous watchfulness.” 

“ I am of your idea ; but how attain the result ?” 

“ It is puzzling; but you mightgive a sleeping-draught 
to the keenest spy, so that she would be plunged in kindly 
slumber during your lesson to your singer.” 

“What are you thinking of. Bob? This is perfectly 
crazy 1” 

“Maybe. Then induce the lady-love to grant you a 
meeting in the gardens. In their deep stillness, amid the 
aromatic mystery of the pines, you can paint your love 
at ease and without having any hangers-on.” 

“ Do you imagine that dove would ever accept such a 
proposition ?” 

“I am persuaded she would, if you take care to hint 
that Eadegonde will be kept in the background by old 
Nereus, and if you impress on her that it is the distress of 
your heart that is to be confided to her. You must not 
fear to make this daughter of Eve believe that it is her 
happiness in particular that will be the outcome of the 
avowal of your secret.” 

Horace became meditative. 

“ She will not come ; she would not dare do it.” 

“Why, the timid gazelle came out before!” 

“Yes, in devotedness to her school-fellow; but she 
would not venture for me. The trouble is that she will 
require talking over to consent to the tryst, and I cannot 
get the time for that debate.” 

“Wait a week, then, my dear Horace, and if you do 
not find a chance of speaking to her without bystanders, 
claim a meeting in the park by a nice little love-letter. 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


51 

This you can easily palm off upon the tender chick, and 
obtain the earnestly desired interview.” 

“Judicious counsel, my old mate, which I shall hasten 
to follow and — ” 

‘ ‘ It’s growing late, ” interrupted Laforest ; ^ ‘ let us turn 
in.” 

The lover’s lament was getting to be a twice-told tale. 
Laforest preferred action. 


52 


The Frolics of Cupid 


CHAPTER V. 

A TRIUMPH OVER TEMPTATION. 

After breakfast, as Horace left the dining-room, in 
company with Robert, to go to studies. Prof. Nereus 
came obsequiously to inform him that the superioress of 
the seminary had sent round for his immediate appear- 
ance. Very much puzzled, but foreseeing something 
pleasant, from his being on good terms with the lady, 
Horace went with rapid pace towards the other building. 

He suddenly stopped before it at the recollection of 
disappointing news that his alter ego had conveyed to 
him that morning. Robert had announced in a lamenta- 
ble tone, accompanied by tragically heart-rending ges- 
tures, that they had run out of their reserve-supply of 
comestibles. He had at first refused to believe the scep- 
tical organist, but the latter had drawn him into the 
alcove and opened the large trunk, the usual cupboard of 
their mutual provisions. 

Alas ! the fact was too true— all the bottles of the com- 
forting Chartreuse lay emptied ! Empty, also, the huge 
chest where the cigars had exhaled their tempting breath. 
The chocolate was melted; the Lyons sausage was no 
more. Nothing was left but the poignant memory of so 
many delicacies disappeared forever. 

‘‘Oh, Horace, faithful friend!” moaned Laforest, “if 
this dearth be prolonged a week, it will carry into the 
grave the modern Damon and Pythias, who join to the 
most advantageous physique the most brilliant gifts and, 
above all, the rarest virtues !” 

“Take heart again, dear boy; we are not yet such 


The Frolics of Cupici. 


53 


outcasts, by the gods ! Besides, be sure that at the first 
occasion I shall push a bold reconnoissance into Ville- 
feuilles and rake in a Gargan fcuan revictualment. ” 

Eecalling the promise, he judged this the propitious 
moment to realize it. He was certainly eager to learn 
what was wanted of him, but to satisfy his partner was 
closer to his heart. He did not hesitate a second to turn 
his back on the school and rapidly descend the streets of 
the old quarter, so dull and deserted that he heard 
nothing but the clatter of his heels over the jagged 
pebbles. 

At the railroad depot Durieu purchased newspapers, 
novels, and cigars expressly ordered for him, and hid 
them all in his ample coat-pockets. As the scent of 
tobacco leaked out he stepped into a church-furnisher’s 
near the Cathedral and had some incense burned close to 
him, under pretence of its being agreeable. Then at a 
brisk pace he triumphantly reascended to the seminary. 

Some slight regret pricked him for not buying a few 
flasks of fine wine, but he expected to smuggle a dozen in 
next day, when he had a rehearsal. 

At last he stood in the presence of the lady principal, 
who received him with the utmost affability. She offered 
him a chair near hers, and said, in the mild, motherly 
voice reserved for her favorites 

“ My dear Horace, the anniversary of the foundation 
of this educational establishment approaches. I want to 
have it celebrated with much pomp.” 

Durien bowed in token of assent. 

“All the celebrities of the neighborhood will be invited, ” 
she continued. 

The organist bowed lower tliis time, and a faint, mock- 
ing smile curled his lips unperceived. 

“She means to have an operatic performance in the 
academy,” he thought. 

“To that end,” resumed the lady, emphatically, “we 
shall decorate the large room with flowers, rich drapery, 


54 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


and our plate. A speech will be made by our county 
member and other magnates. Oh, it will be highly impos- 
ing ! But to augment the lustre of the ceremony I 
depend on a brilliant musical programme.” 

“Indicate your preferences, madame.” 

“ I should like some selections from the extraordinary 
Maestro Rossini.” 

“Willingly.” 

“ But that is not all. We wish you would compose a 
cantata, to be sung by our young ladies. Your remarka- 
ble talent granted, it cannot fail to charm the audience 
and fill them with enthusiasm. Tell me that we may 
rely on your valuable support !” 

On hearing these words the young man felt an ineffa- 
ble joy, for the proposition anticipated his dearest desires. 
With surprising lucidity, he discounted the advantages 
he might derive from the musical composition. First, he 
would please his beloved by writing solos to suit her 
voice and display it ; secondly, he would have rehearsals 
with her which might supply the occasion to declare his 
love. 

Restraining his ecstasy, by great presence of mind, 
he answered in a deferential tone: 

“I shall always be happy and eager to please, madame ; 
so I accept with pleasure the task of composing this can- 
tata. But let me warn you, without delay, that you pre- 
sume too greatly on my poor talents. Still, I shall do my 
best; and if I do not succeed in producing a remarkable 
work, at least I shall give a proof of my zeal in executing 
your desires.” 

“Dear M. Durien, you are always as modest as you are 
agreeable and complaisant. I entreat you to receive all 
our thanks, and be assured that we shall employ all the 
influence we may possess over the gentlemen at your 
college to obtain leisure for you. But you shall not leave 
us without accepting some cake and old wine. You young 


The Frolics of Cupid, 55 

men have a sweet tooth. Come, come! no false shame; 
I know that you do not disdain such excellent things. ” 

So saying, the principal maternally patted the student’s 
cheek. 

“Well, yes, madame, I accept your generous offer, 
though we are being taught that on sobriety, vegeta- 
rianism, and abstinence from the Indian weed depend 
long life !” said the young hypocrite, all the time fearing 
that the lady would sniff the tobacco he was loaded with. 

She gave her still pretty though plump hand for Durieu 
to kiss, and called “Suzanne!” This was a winsome 
pupil-teacher who was appointed under-housekeeper. 
She was ordered to refresh “our learned Kapellmeister, 
He took leave of the worthy superioress with thanks and 
promises to set to work at once on the cantata, and fol- 
lowed the amiable Suzanne, who ushered him into the 
refectory and soon set before him a feast of dainties. 
When sufficiently regaled he manifested the desire to 
visit the wine-vaults. Not for a single instant was the 
girl astonished at this singularly bold suggestion in a 
young ladies’ school, for the organist always felt the same 
yearning to “wet his whistle ” when the principal invited 
him to look in at the pantry, and he was alone accorded 
the authorization. Being a persona grata within these 
walls of learning, she hastened to lend him the cellar 
keys. 

After a scientific tasting of the well-supplied stores, 
Horace, rather red and jolly, and with a sparkle in his 
sapphire eyes, came upstairs and appeared in the refec- 
tory, carrying four cobwebbed bottles. He had committed 
the petty larceny in fraternal enthusiasm, only thinking 
of the great treat he was providing for Eobert. After 
getting the housekeeper’s leave to carry away the liquor, 
he was perplexed how to do so. But she had found a 
basket of the right capacity, in which were already 
placed a huge truffle pie and a gigantic savoy cake. 

Our hero dwelt some seconds in rapture before the 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


56 

eatables, very unlike a romantic lover, and then fastened 
his glittering and comically inquiring eyes on the young 
woman. Her face was brightened by a kind and roguish 
smile as she took the wicked pleasure of prolonging and 
enjoying his surprise. At last she said, in a slightly 
caustic but melodious voice: 

‘‘I know, M. Durieu, that you appreciate properly oiu* 
sherbet, but I am quite sure that you will find it go 
down more deliciously with this pastry.” 

Already enchanted with the principal’s hearty welcome, 
and softened under the influence of the ample libations, 
the musician could not restrain his joy. Without being 
able to account for the impulse, he suddenly dropped on 
his knees before Suzanne and grasped her hand, which 
he frantically kissed; then, rising with the same abrupt- 
ness, he continued the endearments, upon her cheeks, 
her eyes, which were large, and her mouth, which was 
very small. Beneath this furious attack the girl could 
only utter guttural incoherencies, among which only his 
name in reproach could be distinguished, whilst she des- 
perately battled to release herself. 

But, in the same singularly sudden manner, Horace 
opened his arms and quickly drew back, staring at her 
with a stupid, confounded look. She stood erect, trem- 
bling, but otherwise motionless, with her lips palpitating 
like wings of a rose-butterfly, gazing at him with a strange 
and disquieting steadiness in her eyes. The light in 
them was of an enigmatic and disconcerting character. 
Suddenly hoarse sobs heaved her bosom and tears flowed 
abundantly. 

Horace felt the unworthiness of his action, and his 
heart reproved him. Turning very pale, he instanta- 
neously threw himself at the maiden’s feet, and in a truly 
contrite voice gave all sorts of reasons to exculpate 
himself. 

The girl checked her tears and sobs, and forgave him ; 
or rather, her benevolent look on the humbly kneeling 


The Frolics of Ctipid, 


57 


culprit clearly attested that fact. But his voice had soft- 
ened down so as to coax and even delight her; so that she 
selfishly postponed uttering the pardon, already granted 
by her heart, desiring to prolong his supplications, and to 
hear his voice make melody in her ears. 

“Come, come, sir!” she said at last, with pretended 
anger ; ‘ ‘ hurry up ! I have forgotten all. ” 

Smiling sweetly and kindly, she offered both hands to 
help him rise. He applied his lips to them, saying with 
excess of affection : 

“You are good and generous! I thank you with all 
my soul !” 

Eising, he ran to finish packing the hamper. She sat 
near him and merely looked on, but her enfiamed glances 
impressed her face with profound sadness and disap- 
pointment. When the organist had finished his task, he 
returned to thank the girl for the last time. She did not 
see or hear him. She was weeping. 

“ Heavens, how unfortunate I am !” she faltered, almost 
unconsciously, for she had no means of knowing that 
the vision of Horace’s idol had risen before his eyes and 
quelled his traitorous defection. 

He stopped, abashed by this to him unaccountable 
afiiiction ; but, yielding to his sympathy for her, he mur- 
mured words of consolation to regain her confidence. 

Whether she understood him or not, she believed that 
she had found one in whom to confide, and she yielded to 
the invincible desire to speak, and in brief phrases related 
the dull, weary story of her life. 

Suzanne was an orphan since infancy, whose mother 
had been a friend of the chief teacher at the Ursulines’. 
Up to her seventeenth year she had been brought up 
here, passing part of her time in learning, and the rest in 
genteel drudgery, which saved the institution the cost of 
a help. She was appalled at the prospect of being ap- 
prenticed to some business which she might not like, 
when she attained nineteen. She never could loyally 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


S8 

pursue the craft of vending stale and jaimsy goods for 
substantial ones, trick in making out bills and in giving 
change, or be a slave to the rich customers, the floor- 
manager, and the forewomen. She longed to have a 
I home of her own, a tender husband, a family. Her 
penchant was instinctive and despotic to love and be 
beloved. Oh, how she envied the fate of those school- 
fellows who had married soon after leaving school ! 

Her hearer suffered with the idea that her rare and 
budding beauty would benefit nobody if she withered 
away in this cold house, like a rose shooting up accident- 
ally on a wild heath among the broom-plants, and 
expanding its satiny blooms without one pair of eager 
lips bending to kiss them and imbibe their honey. 

It was the desperate passion he entertained for Eo- 
maine that filled his heart with tender generosity for 
Suzanne. With all his soul he pitied this poor girl, who 
might never know the maddening enchantment and the 
adorable tortures of love. He was the more compas- 
sionate towards her rigorous destiny as he felt that he 
would as soon die as renounce the hope and joy of being 
loved. Undesirous of winning the maid himself, he 
would have been happy to see another capture her heart. 
Easily lifted to warm enthusiasm, he would have cer- 
tainly hailed the man who offered to save Suzanne from 
her unfriendly fate. 

Suddenly his thoughtful brow cleared and shone with 
relief — the sensitive fellow had remembered Eobert La- 
forest. That friend was bound by no love. He had only 
to see this girl to acknowledge how beautiful she was ; 
and he was the man, if he fell in love, to run away with 
her from the boarding-school. 

“Devil take me for not having thought of him before 
exclaimed Durien in a joyous tone that rang like a trum- 
pet-flourish in the sepulchral silence. 

“What do you mean?’’ faltered the greatly astounded 
under-housekeeper. 


The Frolics of Ctipid. 


59 


‘‘I say that I perfectly understand your insurmounta- 
ble dislike to being a saleslady, and to living here among 
these cranky, strait-laced teachers; and that I know 
the very means for you to realize the felicity you dream 
of. How would you like to leave this place with a man 
who would cherish you— love you with exquisite deli- 
cacy ?” 

“Oh, can you ask me? I should owe everything to 
such a man,” replied she, panting. 

“But I have stayed here too long; my absence maybe 
remarked at my college. So it would be better to put off 
this important conference until this evening.” 

“ But how can I see you in the evening?” 

“If you will come secretly into the gardens at half -past 
eleven, I shall await you in the little walk leading to the 
lake. Dispense, for the time, with my explaining how I 
can get there,” he continued, seeing that she stared in 
affright; “know simply that the chief spy, Nereus, of 
my college and your Mile. Eadegonde will be engaged to- 
gether in the latter’s apartments at about eleven, so that 
we risk no surprise whatever. I am presuming that it 
will be easy for you to slip out. Anyway, bear in mind 
that the appointment has for goal the realization of your 
happiness. You will come out this evening, won’t you?” 

I— I will try,” murmured the very much agitated girl. 

He squeezed her hand, took up the large basket, and 
said an revoir. 

As he found the senior class under the charge of Pro- 
fessor Nereus, Horace succeeded in smuggling the basket 
into his friend’s compartment and stowing the supply in 
the trunk. He had almost finished the work, when Rob- 
ert burst in, but closed the door smartly behind him. 

“Generous friend!” he cried, beaming with gladness. 
“How have you come possessed of these royal treasures? 
such luscious morsels and divine nectar !” 

“ It is all due to Suzanne.” 

“Oh, blessed and magnanimous Suzanne! Be thrice 


6o 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


blessed by two unfortunate young fellows who had come 
down to corn beef, salt cod, evaporated beans, and flat 
cider! But, Horace, who is this Suzanne?” he inquired, 
becoming suddenly serious. 

“A pupil-teacher in the seminary ; a young girl, very 
lovely and bright, who expects to receive your thanks 
this evening in the park.” 

“ You don’t mean to say that I shall behold this pie- 
giver?” 

“Behold, chat with, admire, and be smitten with her.” 

“ You are joking 1” 

“Not at all.” 

And Durien explained what had happened between him 
and the girl. 

“Joseph, Joseph!” said the other, agreeably surprised. 
“Your conduct is simply perfect. I am content with you. 
But look here,” he went on after a pause: “if she is such 
a marv’el as you picture, I run a great risk of falling in 
love.” 

“ I reckon you will.” 

“But you failed to please her.” 

“I never thought of it. Are not all my thoughts aimed 
at my Eomaine?” cried Horace, loftily. 

“ That’s so. Do you think Suzanne will favorably greet 
me?” 

“Absolutely certain! She is dying for affection ; and 
you. Bob, are so tall, strong, and handsome! Have you 
not the killing eyes, the conquering mustache, the secret 
of the speech that breaks down resistance, perturbs, and 
frenzies? Pooh, pooh! In a few days'the love-lorn lassie 
will love you wuth all the enthusiastic might of her 
virginal heart. Oh, the hours of ineffable bliss you will 
spend together under the starlit foliage. Oh, my boy, 
you are not to be pitied !” 

“ But when are we to sample the delectable liquor you 
have brought?” 

“ To-night, of course ! We are going to sup in the bel- 
vedere, in company with the winsome Suzanne.” 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


6i 


CHAPTER VI. 

ALL IS NOT LOST THAT IS DELAYED. 

Horace composed his cantata with extreme speed. 
Inspiration had never come to him more swiftly and 
fecund. In two days the little musical poem was finished. 
He would have been a perfect hypocrite to himself if he 
had not been pleased, almost proud of his work. It was 
legitimate satisfaction, for the composition was remark- 
able. He gave a hearing of it on the organ before the 
Superioress of the seminary and Professors Bauduel 
and Nereus, as delegates from the neighboring institu- 
tion. They were wonder-struck, and gave the young mu- 
sician a warm ovation. One declared that he would make 
an illustrious composer, whose glory would mount to the 
stars. The lady thought he would be a light of instruc- 
tion. Nereus was happy that the genius had come out of 
his college, and Bauduel begged to have the original draft, 
to be preserved as a memento of the future great master 
—one whom he glorified as his young friend. 

After showering their praises, the learned audience 
agreed that the admirable work bristled with difficulties, 
so that its execution would necessitate many long and ar- 
duous rehearsals by any choir; and theirs being so young 
and inexperienced, it was decided that the organist 
should not be stinted in time for the preparations. They 
were at once begun; the principal, in her enthusiasm, 
wished to supervise them in person. Durieu was fault- 
less in behavior and dignity, but things did not go too 
smoothly. 

The younger girls were so frivolous, a thousand times 


62 


The Frolics of Ciipid, 


preferring to chatter, titter, and make wry faces, rather 
than observe the inflexible measure. Their elders were 
not less unruly and feather-brained. Did they not all 
fancy that they loved the young genius and were adored 
by him ! They were jealous of his slightest word ; fought 
for his fugitive smiles, and attributed each to herself his 
wandering glances. They commented between them- 
selves on his robust beauty, easy manners, and mighty 
talent, like the owner of a slave parading its points. 
Braving the teachers’ reproofs, they buzzed around him, 
snapping their eyes at him like experienced coquettes, 
and muttering captivating sentences out of the novels 
they read “on the sly.” They would abruptly accost 
him under the cover of asking some information, but 
purely to have the pleasure of speaking to him, and, in 
particular, to make the rest believe they were bound in 
sweet intimacy. 

What mattered the superiors’ rebukes ! Were not such 
punishments copiously compensated for by the pleasure of 
vanity in being enabled to say afterwards to one’s school- 
mates in a falsely distressed voice : 

“Only think, my pet, that I was kept out of the class- 
room four days because I smiled and nodded when that 
darling Durien assured me that I owned the brightest 
eyes in all the world, and lips that called for kisses 1” 

Hence the rehearsals were always liable to interrup- 
tions. Each passage had to be gone over an incalculable 
number of times. It was monotonous and exasperating. 
But our organist was gifted with patience, and he man- 
aged to get his chorus to sing with an irreproachable 
ensemble. This done, he had the study of the soli to 
conduct. 

Then Romaine came alone to the organ, with the Su- 
perioress. Horace was much affected by the nearness of 
his beloved. At times fleeting fits of vertigo thrilled him. 
and he barely overcame temptations to embrace her and 
call out that he loved her. 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


63 


In these luckily short spells of delirium his torment 
was so acute that, in the vivid apprehension that he 
could not support them, he often ardently wished for the 
end of the rehearsal, so as to be immediately removed 
from her. But by a violent effort of will he resisted and 
managed to restrain himself. 

This apparent impassibility deceived the teachers, it is 
true. But Eomaine intuitively perceived the tempests 
upsetting her young master’s wits, and gradually her 
turn came to be overcome by a similar emotion — a con- 
straint that she could not always so easily mask as did he. 

Her beautiful voice would often quiver and become 
strangled. Her hands would unconsciously droop un- 
nerved or cramp up like a maniac’s; her eyes, obstinately 
fixed on the sheet of music, would grow dim and see the 
notes dance on the lines like sparrows on the telegraph- 
wires. Many a time her agitation would have been visi- 
ble to the watcher but for the latter dozing off to sleep. 

One day the lady principal was called out, and the 
young couple were left quite to themselves. 

Durien instinctively flung a rapid glance around to 
convince himself that he was alone with his beloved. 

Surprised at the departure, she ceased to sing, and 
timidly raised her large eyes on the composer, while her 
heart throbbed hurriedly. She felt her strength abandon- 
ing her, and her will melting in expectation of some 
prodigious novelty. 

Without being any too well aware what he was about, 
the organist hastily closed the music-sheets before the 
pretty singer, and caught, the hanging hand, which she 
resigned to him. But how pale he was, and how shaken ! 
It was in a hoarse, choking voice that he muttered, as if 
his throat were parched : 

“ Have you not guessed? Do you not know how much 
I love you?” 

And she faltered : 


I 


64 The Frolics of Cupid. 

‘‘Yes; I— I have long known that you loved me, and 
have suspected my love for you ; and I am so— so happy ! ” 

“Eomaine, my ownEomaine! Speak again — keep on 
speaking, and rejoice me with your sweet voice! I con- 
jure you to repeat that you love me.” 

Blushing, but with beaming eyes, the school- girl 
acceded to his wish, and said: 

“Indeed I love you— oh, I love you truly! I do not 
care to live without you!” 

Fired by happiness, Durieu embraced her, and sought 
with his lips for hers, which met him half way. At the 
contact both experienced a sensation of death (the death 
of misery), very slow, but inexpressibly sweet. 

Their clasp gradually relaxed, and, uniting their hands, 
they regarded ono another, ravished and wonder-stricken. 
They seemed, by their joyous exclamations, to be friends 
joined after a long and painful separation. In her turn, 
Eomaine made her sweetheart repeat that he loved her 
and would cherish her till death should part them. Then, 
with roguish curiosity, she plied him with a thousand 
questions to learn how his love for her had developed in 
his heart. 

He installed himself in the large arm-chair vacated by 
the principal, and drew her to him, and began his revela- 
tions, in so low a voice that it was not so perceptible as 
the fluttering sound of their kisses, which not infre- 
quently interrupted the story. 

Suddenly the songstress rose, and shook the hair out of 
her eyes as she looked around her in disquiet. 

“Horace,” she said, in a grave voice, “we have been 
long alone; the teacher may come and surprise us. We 
should resume the rehearsal,” 

“Immediately, my love,” returned Durieu, as if awak- 
ening from an enchanting drea m . And, suddenly recalling 
the wise counsel of Laforest, he added : “ But promise to 
meet me to-morrow evening, about eleven, in the grounds 
in the retired spot which you know, and where I shall 


The Frolics of Cupid. 65 

await you with the utmost impatience. No one will 
know,” 

“’No one? When the least of my actions does not elude 
the vigilant governesses !” 

“Still it will be impossible for Mile. Eadegonde to 
remark your going out and coming in, as, according to 
her habit, she will be in her own room, engaged on an 
important arithmetical work. Profiting by the sleep 
enjoyed by your sisters, you can go through the park to 
the Nymph’s statue. Besides, my darling, did you not 
once before perform this elopement to procure that indis- 
pensable key? If you love me, would you hesitate to do 
for me what you granted for a mere girl-friend?” 

“Horace, I entreat you, cease to require from me a 
step to make me unworthy of your esteem. Think that, 
though I may have nothing to fear from the teachers, I 
have all to fear in the stings of my conscience,” 

“Conscience, my most-beloved, only lashes guilty 
deeds. Surrounded by the passionate respect of the lover 
who venerates you, what can you fear? Oh, do not con- 
found remorse with the timidity which alone makes you 
hostile to my desire.” 

The school-girl did not reply, and kept her eyes 
obstinately lowered. Evidently a stubborn combat was 
going on in her soul : reason pitilessly condemned what 
the heart imperatively commanded, 

“ So it is settled, dearest. At eleven to-morrow evening, 
by the stone bench,” said the young man, taking silence 
to be consent. 

“No, I dare not. ” 

“ I beseech you not to repulse my prayer, darling. Do 
not deprive me of the immense happiness of speaking to 
you without bystanders.” 

“But why the interview? What do you hope from it?” 

“To divulge important secrets to you, and converse on 
our future plans. Eemember, my heart, that barely a 
couple of months separate us from the vacation. I must 


66 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


go to Paris to study for the law ; you will have to go, or 
your side, to your uncle’s. Can we foresee what may 
happen to us before we are united in wedlock? Suppose 
inexorable destiny should sweep us far apart, like straws 
in a hurricane ! Not to be forever parted, we must see 
about our marriage— that is, our life-long union.” 

‘‘‘Oh yes, my Horace, I long to be your dear wife-- 
:'Our everlasting beloved. And you shall be my idolized 
lord, my life, and the realization of my dreams. Why, 
if we had to part— if we were never more to see each other, 
it would be death to me !” 

At the idea of this brutal separation, the girl turned as 
pale as a lily, and trembled nervously. The organist 
soothed her, and softly breathed in her pearly ear: 

“ I can no longer speak to you as 1 wish here, my love. 
Our happiness imposes this tryst upon us. Will you 
come?” 

“Oh, dear, yes!” and she hid her blushing brow on his 
shoulder. 

The little door ‘creaked, and they had just the time to 
snatch a kiss, before resuming the lesson. 

The soloist, who had previously trembled so much with 
emotion, was now in full possession of her powers ; not 
the least weakness appeared now, not the slightest hesita- 
tion. Her notes burst clear and ringing, with a warmth, 
purity, and power extraordinarily charming. So pro- 
longs and resounds the hunting-horn in the forest to pro- 
claim the triumph of the chase. 

The girl had never sung with more soul and boldness. 

Durien had brighter eyes and higher color than before; 
but still his bearing was perfect, and he accompanied 
with incomparable mcestria. Hence the principal, who 
came up the steps, hastened to compliment the author 
and his excellent interpreter, before taking away the lat- 
ter. She turned in departing, and the lover read in her 
eyes her caressing au revoir. 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


6 ; 


He quitted the nest of love slowly, with the conscious- 
ness that, if he were to live a hundred years, he would 
always have its picture exactly present in his mind— the 
blessed nook where for the first time in life his lips 
had been united with those of the maiden of his choice 
in that supremest of passions— unadulterated love. 


68 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


CHAPTER VII. 

TWO OF A KIND. 

The old cathedral bell had hardly tolled the last 
stroke of ten on the silent night, when Horace entered 
the seminary grounds, on the day following his happy 
interview with Romaine Diirocher. 

Goaded by a feverish impatience, he had quitted the 
dormitory the instant Nereus had slipped away. The 
latter had anticipated his usual hour. 

Durien lazily followed him through the solitary garden, 
and when he had disappeared into the other building, he 
installed himself on the stone seat hidden by the rose- 
trees beneath the Nymph’s statue. 

How many sensations, sweet and cruel, rend the lover 
who is waiting for his idol ! 

Every minute he nervously pulled out his watch to 
consult it, and his enervation increased as the hour of 
the appointment approached. 

Suddenly he pricked up his ears, for the church bell 
sounded. It was eleven, and each stroke made his heart 
jump. 

“At last!” he ejaculated, “every suffering will have 
an end !” 

A few minutes passed, deadly and intolerable. She 
did not appear, and he lost courage. 

“Will she not come, though she formally promised ? 
But perhaps she has not been able to slip put. Still, what 
could prevent her ? Not Mile. Radegonde ! The other 
girls? Not at all, for they would be asleep, dreaming of 
their cousins and the holidays. Nothing, therefore, op- 


The Frolics of C7ipid, 


69 


poses her escape. Why, then, should she not be here ? 
It is clear that she does not love me. What a barbarous 
and tyrannical flirt ! Oh, it is shameful !” 

Having poured out these incoherent phrases in a loud 
voice, iuterspersing them with wild gestures, our hero 
dropped exhausted upon the bench. 

“You wicked fellow! It is you who are shameful for 
doubting her who pledged you her faith 1” interrupted a 
sweet voice behind him. 

“You, my Romaine! Oh, how happy I am! Forgive 
me, my cherished one, for those hasty words ! I was 
maddened by my impatience to see and hear you— to 
press you in my arms and forget the entire universe be- 
side you. But you well know that I cannot doubt your 
heart, the extent of your love — that love which makes 
me so proud and happy. A kiss, a kiss, my adored I” 

“No, you do not deserve it.” 

Horace uttered a thousand entreaties. His voice trem- 
bled with desire. She asked to be nothing better than 
indulgent, and already reproached herself for her harsh- 
ness. Suddenly she seized his dear head between her 
hands and covered eyes, brow, and hair with caresses, 
while murmuring those tender feminine verbal sweet- 
meats which beguile man’s spirit. 

The pair sat on the bench and long looked at one 
another without speaking. Finally they began a tender 
conversation, telling all their gladness under the shel- 
tering leaves, and formed a thousand castles in the air. 

“ Oh, how proud I shall be as your wife! How hard I 
shall try to make life sweet for you ! We are never going 
to leave one another, are we?” 

“No, never, dear soul. We shall always be together, 
as at this unspeakable moment.” 

“ Are we going to live in Paris, Horace ?” 

“If you like, sweet. Do you know anything about 
the city?” 

“ Very little. I only lived there for a month, visiting 


70 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


at vacation-time a friend of my guardian’s. It frightened 
me with its noise and size. But, really, what do I know 
about it, after all ? I am sure I shall live happily there. 
Besides, we shall choose a quiet house in a very lonely 
street, my little husband !” 

I “Humph! I think we shall find such a hermitage 
sooner a little way of town, in a suburb— Sevres way, for 
instance,” he returned, smiling at the innocence which 
would look for quiet in the great metropolis. 

“Yes, yes, you’re right. A charming retreat, with 
a large garden full of sweet-smelling flowers, handsome 
plants, and great trees echoing the warbling of birds ; a 
garden barred with narrow sandy walks, peopled with 
fine classical statues, carpeted with velvety sward, and 
full of cosey nooks! There, Horace, we should rise early 
to see the dew diamond the leaves, and the bright sun 
open the blossoms with its first kisses, and, above all, to 
breathe the healthy sharpness of the morning breeze.” 

“It will be delightful.” 

“In spring, summer, and autumn, yes; but how about 
winter ?” she herself queried, with a sudden relapse into 
common-sense. 

‘ ‘ In winter we will have a snuggery in Paris ; rooms 
hung with plush, and warmed so that you will not care 
about early rising there.” 

At this remark the girl’s face reddened adorably. 
She did not make any comment, but her eyes betrayed a 
smile. 

In their communion the lovers did not remark how 
hours succeeded hours. The roses tried to screen them ; 
they sprang up at their feet and all around, and they 
exhaled a perfidious aroma which inspired them with 
ardent longings. Their heads grew heavy, and their 
hearts ached with burning cravings. 

In her eyes Horace read what was the distress. She 
felt that she must obey the dictates of honor. Then he 
felt his love and esteem augment still more, and he wel- 


The Frolics of Capid. 


7 ^ 

corned a sound on the lake which interrupted their inde- 
cision and indicated that they were no longer alone in 
the world. 

‘‘The boat!” said he, rising sharply. “Bobert and 
Suzanne are coming from the Temple Island in the sail- 
boat.” 

“ Do not let us meet them yet,” she said, without fully 
understanding what he said. 

He was only too glad that he was not so soon to be 
separated by others from his divinity. 

“It is chilly; let us walk about. Shall we?” she sug- 
gested. 

“I wish anything you desire, dear heart, my life, my 
happiness I” he said, taking her by the waist. And they 
slowly rambled under the branches and in and out of the 
labyrinth of bushes. 

Their aimless stroll allowed them to admire many of 
the beauties- of the place. 

Before weird grottoes they paused, where they dared 
not enter, so black were they within. At length they 
climbed to the belvedere, where they had a view of the 
old town and the endless country steeped in gloomy 
repose. 

On descending, they would have wandered farther, but 
all of a sudden confused white streaks blended into one 
snowy line, like the crest of a distant wave, and as it 
brightened it paled the stars and the moon. 

“Lo! the dawn, my Horace 1” 

“ So soon ? Hang it all, how short the nights are 1” 

“ I must hasten indoors, ” she said. 

“ But you will come out again to-morrow night, at the 
same time ?” 

“ Oh no ; I’d never dare.” 

“Romaine, it is your betrothed husband who begs the 
boon. You will come?” 

“I— I— yes 1” 

They exchanged an almost interminable kiss, as if they 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


72 

were going to be led to execution, and away bounded the 
girl like a gazelle. A brier caught her skirt, as if to de- 
tain her that Durien might admire a sculpturesque foot 
and its upward-continuing lines— a vision which haunted 
him for many a day. 

Before turning at the end of the alley she blew him a 
kiss, and was gone. 

Horace lingered on the spot, his heart beating pain- 
fully. But as he recollected that he should soon see her 
again— as often as he manifested the wish, since he felt 
she was entirely his own— his happiness returned. 

As he retraced his steps, he heard near the seminary a 
regular sound like the roar of Vulcan’s bellows. 

“As I live,” he thought, “it is old Nereus, snoring! 
Turned out of the seminary, for precaution’s sake, he has 
fallen asleep in the shrubbery on the homeward way, and 
there he lolls like Pan in the grove. Ha, ha ! that will 
help our return.” 

And, laughing, he quickened his pace to find Eobert 
and steal into their dormitory. 

Horace had guessed correctly that the pupil-teacher 
and his hitherto inseparable colleague were upon the 
lake. They had taken the liberty of unfastening the 
little sailboat instead of the skiff. With its white wings 
expanded, they had been cruising the hours away on its 
crystal surface. 

The breeze was enjoyable, as that off a tree of ripening 
peaches, and reddened their cheeks glowingly. 

They were already endeared. When Horace intro- 
duced them, they offered their hands spontaneously, and 
^mutual admiration flashed from both pairs of eyes. They 
felt the same tremor in their voices and feverish fingers, 
and— oh strange, mysterious affinity of beings ! — the sweet 
prescience was theirs that they should love and their des- 
tinies be united. 

They had no need to speak during the cruise. Suzanne 
let her hands dabble with the water singing along the 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


73 


side, as their eyes strayed over the transparency above 
and around. The broad sky seemed another lake, into 
whose fabulously deep reaches they wished for the pinions 
of eagles to soar and vainly attempt to reach the confines. 

But they have reached the island. 

The lotus-eaters w^ere suddenly fiung out of their rev- 
ery by the sailboat running aground. 

The collegian lifted out the pupil-teacher and placed 
her on the land. 

She looked with joyful surprise at the high, slender 
poplars pointing up into the azure, and the willows wash- 
ing their tresses in the wave, and then on the splendrous 
front of the miniature temple inundated by the moon- 
beams. 

Many times they made the tour of the islet, pleased to 
trample the thick, yielding grass, which made them be- 
lieve they were wading in the water ; at length they went 
up the moss-grown steps and ventured into the shadowy 
vestibulie. 

The young man lighted a candle with which he had 
supplied himself, and led the way, followed by his loved 
one. 

Suzanne stared at the regal splendors of the interior. 
She recollected what had slumbered in her memory : how 
the ‘‘old girls” whispered about a “little temple,” and 
hyperbolically expatiated on its luxurious boudoirs. They 
so highly colored their pictures that most of the hearers 
believed it was all a fancied scene from fairyland ; but 
these palatial rooms were the ones they had sought feebly 
to describe. She examined them minutely, as if she ex- 
pected to discover something supernatural — awful or de- 
lightful. The boudoirs were much alike: warm, snug, 
upholstered in velvet of every color, with ottomans and 
easy-chairs, and bric-a-brac of inestimable value. 

The girl’s favorite hue, she said, was old rose; but it 
appeared that they were a long while finding it, for, when 
at length they recrossed the lake, the dawn was spread- 


74 


The Frolics of Citpid, 


ing its blanched veil on the horizon, and the larks were 
tumultuously sounding the reveille of nature. 

Like the other pair of lovers, they parted with a passion- 
ate caress, and a promise to see one another again on the 
morrow. 

1 Horace saw a light form flit by him and vanish in the 
same dii^ection as Romaine had taken. It was Suzanne. 
Steps approached him, and a merry voice hummed the 
cavatina from Romeo and Juliet — ’'"Ah, levetoi^ soleilF 
Recognizing his friend, Durien ran to meet him, and they 
clasped hands. 

‘‘Singing! You are as gay as the birds hailing the 
awakening of all things.” 

“Oh, my dear fellow, what a delicious night I have 
passed in the enlivening company of that matchless Su 
zanne !” 

“ I do not envy you. I had my Romaine.” 

“Quite so! She came to the meeting, eh?” 

“ I have just parted with her, and I am to repeat it to- 
morrow. Oh, friend, consider me in the iulness of my 
happiness, ” 

“Happy old Horace!” 

“What a singular ladies’ school, Robert!” 

“Eden, my boy!” 

The two collegians were overjoyed. But as it was past 
three o’clock, and Professor Nereus would probably be 
awakened by the increasing coolness, they noiselessly 
crept home and into the dormitory, and devoted to repose 
the few remaining hours. 


The Frolics of Ctipid. 


75 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A TRAGIC INTERRUPTION. 

It is easier to make appointments than to keep them. 

Though neither student had improper intentions, a 
month passed and Horace did not see his beloved. 

A month ! Imagine his affliction of spirit. 

On the day after the memorable interview, at the rehear- 
sal, the principal informed him that he must excuse Mile. 
Durocher, who had a cold and had to keep her room. He 
was not very much affected by this, hoping and conjee- 
turing that a few days’ care and repose in a heated room 
would put an end to her indisposition. But cruel fate 
plays with our dearest desires and delights, and the or- 
ganist’s anticipations were not realized. 

Two days after, at the next lesson, the principal, with 
a saddened mien, was compelled to own that our young 
singer had contracted a violent fever. 

Then commenced mental tortures for our hero, which 
each day and night grew sharper. At the present he was 
debating with anxiety how he should again see his darling. 

At times he accused himself of having induced the 
girl’s illness. It was he who had insisted on her keeping 
the nightly tryst, and he detained her on the cold stone 
seat in the shade, with her feet in the dewy grass. He 
cursed that happy night now, and would have paid almost 
with his life for the restoration of her health. 

He was buried in these gloomy thoughts, when his 
room door unexpectedly opened and somebody glided in. 
He sprang up, startled. 

“ Of course you are up ! I might have known that you 


76 The Frolics of QtpicL 

would not be asleep,” disappointedly muttered the in- 
truder. 

“You, Eobert!” exclaimed the stupefied collegian. 
“ Faith, friend, I should have sworn that you were beside 
Suzanne. ” 

“No; it is not until to-morrow that I am to meet her. 
But that is neither here nor there. I am not the fellow 
to find fun in any quarter when my brother-collegian is 
miserable.” 

“ Very well. What are you after?” 

“ In the first place, I want to know why you are sitting 
up instead of peaceably lying down.” 

“It is very simple, my dear fellow. I was restless 
under the coverlet, so I got up, and fell to meditating 
on— on a number of subjects.” 

“Confess, rather, that you were torturing yourself hy 
thinking of Mile. Eomaine! Upon my word, that school- 
miss will rob you of your senses 1 Come, come, my poor 
Horace, why distress yourself thus? She is not so ill as 
all this ; she only has a bad cold. I wager that in a week 
she will be fully recovered, and that you will see her 
more loving than ever at your meetings. So have pa- 
tience; banish all uneasiness, and— I say, let’s have a 
turn in the gardens. The cool air will do you good.” 

“Yes, let us go. These narrow boxes are enough to 
smother one.” 

With due precautions the two friends left the dormi- 
tory, descended the shadowy stone steps, and w^ere soon 
in their college garden. Walking in single file through 
the exuberant undergrowth hedging the alley, they 
reached the high wall, opened the small door, and in- 
vaded the seminary grounds. 

This flight from the college to stroll in the open wilds 
never failed to arouse in their spirits that greed for sen- 
sation and keen restlessness inspired by the accomplish- 
ment of prohibited deeds. It was a mild intoxication for 
them. This consciousness of their skill and powers filled 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


77 


them with self -admiration, at the same time as it sug- 
gested disdainful pity for their teachers. 

Moderating their pace, the collegians reached a clearing, 
at the end of which ran a broad avenue to the seminary. 

Large clouds dragged like livid veils of monstrous 
shapes across the indigo sky, where the stars peeped 
wan, and the pale, sickly moon appeared and vanished 
fantastically. The angry winds soughed plaintively as 
they tore through the branches, twisting and shaking 
them, crumpling, plucking, and scattering the leaves, as 
the years snatch away our beliefs and illusions, and dis- 
perse our dear ones. 

“ Thunder I” exclaimed Laforest, “ the wind is anything 
but meek to-night.” 

“It lashes one’s face like a whip,” replied Durien, 
turning up his coat-collar to protect his ears. 

“And worse is to come. I am no weather-prophet, but 
we are in for a storm. Remember how brittle the elms 
are. Considering our mishap upon that old one, I think 
we had better not go down this avenue of them. Do you 
see that long column of black masses? That is the heav- 
enly artillery. At any moment the lightnings may flash 
out — ” 

“ Look ! they have begun. That fire-—” 

“Fire?” 

The organist of the Ursulines extended his arms invol- 
untarily forward, his mouth gaped, and his eyes were 
filled with horror. 

“What ails you?” gasped Robert, puzzled. 

“ Oh, it is fire ! The convent is on fire !” 

Indeed long, whirling flames already darted from the 
windows of the first floor of the building. 

For a few minutes they stood mute and motionless, 
with their eyes fixed on the flaming pile, but then they 
bounded across the opening and darted up the avenue. 

Durien’s face was calm now ; his friend’s was excited 


78 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


with the glee of beholding a fire, that destructive and 
picturesque element. lie was a born iconoclast. 

The wind strengthened so that they could not look 
straight ahead; but, cowering like old men under the 
burden of years, they followed the dark line of the bor- 
dering trees. At instants the gusts were so strong that 
they had to stop for shelter behind some titanic trunk. 
Then above their heads would pass a thunder roar like 
a charge of heavy cavalry. 

The blast having swept on, the friends would give a 
glance of admiration at the generous colossus protecting 
them and still quivering from the terrible shock be had 
repulsed. Then they rushed on again. But suddenly 
Horace, who led the difficult march, turned towards his 
comrade, and said nervously : 

‘ ‘ Listen. ” 

Wild shrieks came from -the school; sharp, sinister 
notes, piercing the clarion voice of the tempest. 

“It’s getting warm yonder,” said Laforest. “That’s 
the girls screaming in a panic.” 

“Yes, and our beloved ones are right in the midst; and 
oh, heaven ! mine is ill abed !” 

“Let us hasten, Horace !” 

They soon reached a broad lawn, in the middle of which 
rose a handsome grove which separated them from the 
burning building. They glided into it, leaned against a 
trunk-, and looked on enthralled. 

The window in Mile. Eadegonde’s room, and the others 
on the same row immediately adjoining it, were on 
fire. Sheaves of sparks and billows of flame madly de- 
voured the woodwork, twisted the iron bars, and franti- 
cally enveloped the wall with their strong and pitiless 
waves. Spasmodically fanned by the fierce violence of 
the gale, they leaped up, spread, and darted about in zig- 
zags with blinding reflections. 

Although the fire was at present circumscribed to only 
one portion of the lowest story, the two lookers-on, at the 


The Frolics of Capid, 


79 


first glance, considered the whole structure doomed. Be- 
sides, no appliances were provided to preserve it from 
such destruction. 

“ Do you notice, Horace, that the right end, where the 
Elephant lodges, is already wholly consumed, while the 
centre hardly begins to flame, and the left side is still 
untouched?” 

“ Yes, certainly; and that proves that the conflagration 
broke out in that woman’s room. Since she played Hero 
to our Leander, Nereus, she adopted the habit of leaving 
her lamp in the open window, to be his beacon on the way. 
A gust has upset the lamp, and in falling it has set Are 
to the curtains and the woodwork.” 

‘ ‘ What a Ane building ! By jove ! it will cost somebody 
a pretty sum.” 

“Some lives, I fear, now.” 

“No, for here come all the girls.” 

Indeed, upon the lawn streamed forth the teachers and 
the pupils, with the servants intermingled. Rudely 
aroused in the dead of night, when roseate dreams were 
soothing their slumber, they ran into the night with 
piercing screams. 

Conspicuous among them was the Monitor from Ron- 
gem College, who was trying to make it seem that he had 
come round to the rescue and had not— strangely enough 
— run out of the building in their midst. Very pale, but 
calm, correctly dressed, he stalked to and fro, seeking to 
encourage the impressionable feminine folk which sur- 
rounded him. Every now and then he opened a long, 
narrow book which he carried under his arm, and after 
glancing at it articulated a few syllables in his cavernous 
voice. These sounds rang like booms from a bronze gong. 

“ What does he say, Robert?” 

“ He is reading out the roll-call of the school-girls.” 

“Three are yet to account for,” observed the teacher 
in his sonorous voice. 


The Frolics of Ciifid. 


So 


Two of these were soon forthcoming in a couple of 
pretty things in scanty apparel, for he continued : 

“ Thank Heaven! we have none to look after now but 
Mile Romaine Durocher.” 

Nobody responded, and Durien groaned. The name was 
repeated several times without meeting with an echo or 
reply. Horace was in agony. The perspiration empearled 
his forehead and temples, and his eyes, dilated by appre- 
hension, desperately searched the different clusters of 
girls to discover the blonde. 

Deeply disquieted, Prof. Nereus took the course of 
questioning the young ladies collectively. 

“Can none of you tell me where Mile. Durocher is?” 
he earnestly inquired, and with creditable kindliness. 

There was a short silence. Finally one tall girl with a 
timorous bearing stepped up to the inquirer, and in a 
shrill voice said : 

“When the alarm reached the dormitory I clearly 
heard Mile. Durocher, my next neighbor, jumping out 
of bed ; so I did not bother any more about her, believing 
that she was in flight, like all of us. But now I recall that 
she was not well, and I presume, from her not being here, 
that she had not the strength to come down, and so would 
still be up there in her room—” 

A loud yell of despair, rushing from Durien’s heart as 
well as lungs, chilled the hearers with horror. 


\ 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


8i 


CHAPTER IX. 

A ROMANTIC RESCUE. 

And before bis friend had time to restrain him, Durien 
rushed fro m the cover and dashed wildly towards the 
flaming structure. 

There w as no door or stairway on this side, but simply 
a small arched way under the first floor, leading into a 
f)layground. There arose the broad wooden stairs giving 
access to the interior. 

Knowing all the arrangements, Horace instantly 
ilirected himself towards this inlet. In his frantic course 
he violently jostled old Nereus and sent him spinning to 
the ground. Without even turning his head, he darted 
through into the court-yard, raced up the steps, and dis- 
appeared in a whirlwind of smoke. 

This flight was so sudden and rapid that the teacher 
so unexpectedly knocked over had no time to recognize 
the student ; and the girls, believing it a diabolical appari- 
tion, fell on their knees, terror-stricken, and began to 
pray. 

Robert now also made his appearance, and, without pay- 
ing the faintest attention to the frightened flock, he ran to 
the vaulted way. He, too, reached the large court-yard, 
but he was ill acquainted with its topography, and he lost 
several minutes in seeking for the stairs in the impene 
trable smoke and darkness. When he at last blundered 
upon the foot of it, and wanted to use it, clouds of smoke, 
rushing from within, barred his way and nearly blinded 
him. Tongues of flame enwrapped the wooden handrails 
so as to render ascent impossible. Three times our col- 


82 


The Frolics of Cupid. 

legian sprang forward, making incredible efforts to 
mount, but only succeeded in severely burning himself. 

Finally he was obliged to stagger back from the vic- 
torious smoke and flames. 

Then he set to shouting wildly for his friend, but his 
voice was lost in the formidable roar of the flre-flend. 

“ It’s all over with him !” he exclaimed with a sob. 

Eunning back through the gloomy passage, he arrived 
in the grounds, where Nereus, revived by the kind 
though somewhat tardy cares of the other teachers, was 
set on his feet, and was chattering with animation. 
Transported with fury, Laforest bounded upon him, 
caught him by the shoulders, and began to shake him 
with frenzy, all the while hissing in his ear ignominious 
epithets and anathemas. But his wrath becoming ex- 
hausted and his muscles wearied, he relaxed his grasp. 

The Elephant’s lover sank bewildered upon the lawn, 
and remained without movement for several minutes. 
The young man seized him under the arms and dragged 
him up again. 

“Stir your stumps, you wretch!” he shouted vehe- 
ently. “ Why don’t you act, for we must save Horace!” 

“What Horace?” faltered the teacher. “Oh! the 
library ! At this moment my friend Horace, and Virgil— 
ay, and all the Fathers— may be consumed for aught I 
care.” 

“Horace, you idiot? It is my friend, Horace Durien!” 

“ What, is he there— in the ladies’ school?” 

“ Yes, you confounded fool ! He ran to the rescue of the 
young girl-student who was left in the sleeping-apart- 
ments. The stairs are all aflre now. We must try to get 
them out by a window, for there exists no other way, I 
suppose.” 

“No, there is no issue but the windows, if the stairs 
are impracticable.” 

“ Well, let us procure ladders and ropes as quickly as 
we can.” 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


83 


The teacher comprehended the awful position of the 
young couple, and hastened to assist Laforest to succor 
them. 

But we must now return to Durien. 

He had raced up the staircase in spite of the thick 
smoke curhng about it. The capriciously leaping flames 
streamed over the planks like golden tresses, and, twirled 
by the furious wind, endangered his every footstep ; but 
without serious burns he attained the girls’ sleeping- 
rooms. 

It was a large, oblong hall, with pretty comparfhaents 
partitioned off and hung with blue-and- white-striped 
chintz ; it occupied almost the entire first floor. A broad 
aisle ran regularly down the middle. The walls were 
ivory-white, pierced at the end with a massive, dark 
oaken doorway which led into the room of the teacher 
on night-watch. This was Eadegonde’s ; and the Are, 
having broken out there, under the circumstances cor- 
rectly imagined by the organist, had extended ruinously 
in a twinkling. 

The culprits, arraying themselves with feverish haste, 
concluded that they could not by themselves put out the 
intense flames already enveloping them, and they 
remembered that the ViUefeuilles fire-engine company, 
with their rattletrap apparatus, would be hours arriving, 
even if the fire was soon noticed there. So Eadegondc 
gave her sinning friend a little start, in order that he might 
steal through the girls’ dormitory unnoticed, before she 
herself ran through it shrieking ‘‘Fire! fire!” on the 
way to alarm the rest of the house, her fellow-teachers 
and the servants. But Nereus was in confusion, and the 
girls were so (quickly afoot that it was among the fiist of 
their rush that he gained the grounds. 

Eomaine Durocher was enjoying the deep sleep of con- 
valescence, when suddenly an imperative voice broke in 
upon her; 


84 'The Frolics of Cupid, 

‘‘Up, up! Get up at once and run into the recreation- 
ground !” 

The girl mechanically sat up for a few seconds, puzzled, 
wondering if she were not the sport of some hoaxers. 
But the room door had been left open by Radegonde, and 
the painfully plain uproar and? piercing screams proved 
that her faculties had not imagined anything chimerical. 
She quickly leaped off her couch, and ran to the door, 
which she modestly drew ajar to peep out curiously. 

Her fellow -pupils, half clad, were rushing towards the 
stairway. At the bottom of the hall rose frightful and 
yet fascinating sheets of multicolored flames. 

Her first thought, at the sight of this awful spectacle, 
was to fly towards the outlet after her mates ; but reflect- 
ing that, if she ran in her scanty garment, her bitter 
enemy the cold might again seize her and perhaps this 
time overpower her, so that she might nevermore see her 
lover, she hastily drew back, and in a very short time 
donned her clothes. 

She now darted into the large room, but had not gone 
a dozen steps before a volume of the dense smoke envel- 
oped her and half smothered her. She staggered back 
into her little room, and sank upon the bed in a torpor. 
But in a few minutes she came to her senses, and, con- 
scious of the terrible danger which menaced her, she 
inferred that she must brave the flames to effect an 
escape. She ran to her washstand, dipped her handker- 
chief several times in the water, and applied this mask to 
her face before running towards the outlet. 

When she reached the stairhead, her eyes filled with 
dread, her features were convulsed, and a hoarse scream 
burst from her. It was all in a flame. 

Fanned by the formidable wind, the fiery cascades 
poured upon the broad oak stairs and engulfed them in 
flames. 

The terrified girl retreated in the opposite direction, 
where she perceived a window, to which she suddenly 


The Frolics of Cnpid. 


85 


dashed ; and with desperate energy she tried to climb 
upon the sill. Unfortunately, it was rather high up, 
and the wall offered no foothold ; so the poor girl only 
bruised her knees, knocked her forehead, and fell back 
again. 

Still desperate, but overcome by fatigue, she tool?: 
refulge for the second time in her alcove. She began to 
call for help from there ; but her feeble complaint was 
soon stifled in her parched throat. 

The smoke thickened and the flames with incredible 
rapidity implacably advanced, eating their way to the 
end of the room. 

She saw that she was lost. 

Cold perspiration inundated her face and dropped along 
her cheeks ; her teeth chattered, and her eyes only too 
clearly beheld the vision of a hideous death. In her ears 
sounded funereal hymns and death-knells. Her whole 
being sank into an abyss of anguish, making her writhe 
with bitter regrets. 

She must die ! 

In an instant all would end. That incomparable 
beauty ; that exquisite form, so fine, fair, and elastic ; her 
glorious eyes, in which the worshipper saw Love itself ; 
those long, flaming tresses, of which the fire’s locks were 
so envious ; those hands which Horace had covered with 
caresses ; her small, rosy mouth — all, all would be reduced 
to nothing, a handful of vile ashes which would be min- 
gled and confounded with the profane cinders of the 
general wreck. 

Death! Well, let it come, but not without her seeing 
her beloved once more, hearing the music of his voice, 
and feeling on her lips the fond pressure under which, 
like Juliet, she craved to fall into sleep eternal. 

Death ! What a pity ! At sixteen ! And one so beauti- 
ful, too, and who loved and was beloved ! 

She tottered towards her room door. And making a 
desperate effort, she uttered in her last breath the cher- 


86 


The Frolics of Ciipid, 


islied and most irresistible invocation, the dear name of 
her beloved, and sank heavily upon the scorching floor. 

In the dreadful agony of finding the dormitory unten- 
anted, Horace had been for some seconds running about 
in it, searching all the divisions with anxiety, when the 
heart-rending call of his name resounded on his ears. 
He impetuously sprang into the compartment whence it 
came, and instantly perceived the swooning figure at his 
feet. 

“ Romaine, Eomaine, my dearest!” he exclaimed. 
“It is I— your Horace, who comes to save you!” His 
voice partially restored her consciousness. 

She endeavored to rise, and, a pale smile softly spread- 
ing over her angelic face, she murmured as in a dream : 

“You, my well-beloved !” And then muttering some 
unintelligible words she fainted again. 

He vigorously took her up in his arms, and proceeded 
towards the sole egress as quickly as he could. 

Alas ! the stairs were no more. In their stead yawned 
a pit in which extravagantly danced and whirled infernal, 
iridescent flames, which frightened, dazed and filled him 
with hallucinations. 

The collegian quickly recoiled, and turned towards the 
windows; but at the first glance he judged them inac- 
cessible on account of their height ; and before each an 
alcove had become a fiery furnace. 

What could he do? He was overwhelmed with agony. 

Suddenly his face colored, and his eyes grew bright. 
He uttered a loud cry of gladness. He had remarked 
that the second -floor stairs, separated by along stone hall 
from the lower ones, was not yet injured. There was 
certainly much fire to cross through, by the dormitory 
doorway particularly. But the road was yet practicable. 
And he said to himself : 

‘ ‘ Safety lies there. ” 

Covering his dear one with his over-coat, he bravely 


The Frolics of Cupid, 87 

marched towards the steps, and reached the next floor at 
the cost of a few burns. 

Here he could breathe, sheltered from the fire ; but it 
was eating its destructive way quickly. So, without 
stopping, he climbed to the third and last story, and ran 
for refuge to the corner farthest from the line of Rade- 
gonde’s room, the seat of the conflagration. 

As there, at least, he might wait for help to come, he 
recovered confidence. 

He gently set down his darling in a roomy old arm- 
chair, and gazed on her with solicitude. Still insensible, 
her face wore the pallor of death, and broad brown rings 
encircled her eyes. He quickly unloosed her corsage, and, 
finding a pitcher of water there, he bathed her temples. 

Some anxious moments slowly passed, during which she 
did not stir, though her breathing began to be percepti- 
ble. 

Durieu reflected that he had neither time nor means to 
give her more efficacious care, and that the main thing 
was to get out of the death-trap. He flew to the window, 
dashed out the sash, and shouted for aid in a voice of 
thunder. 

His appeal was instantly perceived by his bosom-friend. 
Robert had been wandering in desperation in the grand 
avenue, when he beheld his friend ; and uttering a joyous 
shout, he ran towards him to catch his words. 

“My good old Robert, get a stout rope!” 

In a minute after, a knotted rope was skilfully slung 
up to Horace. He examined it minutely, and, deeming 
it perfectly sound, hastened to attach it to the window 
cross-bar. He bound Romaine’s wrists together, passed 
his head between her arms, thus forming a novel baldric, 
and further embracing her with his left hand, he man- 
aged to lift her and himself upon the sill. Then twining 
his legs and right arm and hand in the rope, he launched 
into the void and slowly began to glide downwards. 

Below, Laforest, Nereus, the teachers, and the school- 


88 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


girls followed with frightened eyes the couple, fantasti- 
cally haloed by the infernal gleams, and swinging dread- 
fully in the heated air as the unchained blasts sported 
with them. Durien, with all his coolness, was daunted 
himself. He lowered away, slowly but safely, as far as 
the first floor. * 

To avoid the flames which spouted from the window- 
frames and menacingly curled upwards, he had to kick 
the wall violently to send himself some feet outwards as 
he slackened his grip. But at last he has reached the 
ground. Eomaine is saved. Saved by her lover. And 
a mighty shout of gladness went up from every throat. 

“ Have her seen to at once,” he feebly muttered, as he 
placed her in the arms of the Mother Superior. And 
then he sank upon the gravel walk exhausted. 

He faltered a few incoherent words as he pressed his 
friend’s hand in his.* But reaction set in. His grasp 
loosened. He became unconscious. 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


89 


CHAPTER X. 

VALE, ALMA MATER I 

When Durien recovered his senses he was in his bed 
in the college. Three days had gone by, and it would be 
a week before he could get up. 

“My poor Horace!” said his old friend, who was the 
lone watcher at his bedside, “what unutterable delight 
to see you almost hale again! Oh, I feared you were 
gone !” 

‘ ‘ What ! was I as low as that?” 

“Well, no; not so very grave a case in itself— high 
fever, some scratches and burns, and delirium. But was 
it not a miracle that you escaped?” 

“I remember all now. The fire! Romaine! Oh, my 
Romaine! Where is she? how is she?” 

“She is well. She recovered her senses shortly after 
your placing her in helping hands, and the first word she 
articulated was your name. She wanted to see you, and 
asked for you over and over again.” 

‘ ‘ The darling ! How I love her !” 

“But, as she was weak and, above all, feverish, they 
hastened to give her the attentions she required in the 
only part of the building that escaped the flames— the 
organ-loft— where they put up a bed for her. Next day 
the fever had almost gone, but her nerves were very un- 
strung. On waking after a good night, she sent for me 
to learn how you were getting on. The doctor had not 
given an opinion on your condition, but, knowing the 
vigor of your character and soundness of your constitu- 
tion, I boldly answered that you only required rest to be 


90 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


all right in a few days. Oh, my dear fellow ! what de- 
licious Joy she felt ! She laughed, and was the happiest 
of women. She kept repeating : ‘ I love him ! I love my 
Horace ! He is so brave ! ’ I left her with the promise to 
bring her news of you. But when I went to her some 
hours following, I found her heart-broken. All the girls 
were sent home, and her uncle telegraphed that he was 
coming to take her away. 

‘‘ ‘ I am obliged to depart without seeing him,’ she said, 
‘for our principal, in spite of my entreaties, would not 
hear of my going into the young gentlemen’s college. 
But I earnestly beg of you to tell Horace that all my heart 
is his for ever and ever. Tell him that I hope to see him 
in Tours, at the vacation.’ And then she gave me this 
ring, adding: ‘ Hand him this pledge of my faith, which 
I understand he will preserve as long as he cherishes 
me.'” 

Durien sat up, his eyes flashing with pleasure. 

“I’ll keep it always I” he cried exaltedly. He kissed it 
many times with fanatical ardor, and then put it on his 
finger. 

“How he loves her!” uttered Eobert, speaking his 
thoughts unconsciously. 

“Yes, friend; I love her to distraction— -as much as 
possible. I cannot express it. As soon as I am allowed 
to quit this hateful abode, I shall go to Tours, and marry 
her. ” 

“ At your time of hfe? Marry and be marred!” 

“ Why, Just SO; at my time of life. Why should you 
be astonished at that? I do not see myself how it can be 
honorable to wait, before wedding a woman, till years, 
excesses, and all the battles of life shall have enfeebled 
or worn out our frame, rubbed the bloom off our senses, 
and chilled our impulses. On the contrary, it seems to 
me that, in acting thus, a man in gay recklessness exposes 
himself to his speedily disillusioned bride avenging her- 
self for the immoral contract which linked the Joyous 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


91 


springtide of her life to the melancholy autumn of our 
impotency. I do not therefore see why I should fear to 
give all my youth and freedom to the so fair and perfect 
girl whom I adore, and of whose love I enjoy the inex- 
pressible bliss.” 

Laforest faintly shrugged his shoulders and preserved 
an obstinate, sceptical silence. 

His friend’s project seemed detestably childish to him. 

Astonished by his persistent dumbness, Horace sud- 
denly began laughing. 

“Of course, my dear Robert,” he exclaimed, “your 
disapproving manner does not any more astonish me. I 
remember, indeed, that you treasure the absolute belief 
that ‘ To take a woman to wife is to commit the greatest 
folly in life.’ ” 

Without heeding his friend’s supplicatory interruption, 
he warmly proceeded : 

“You will tell me that ‘ Marriage, however sublime in 
theory, is wholly contestable in practice, because the re- 
ciprocal and inviolable fidelity demanded of both part- 
ners is absolutely contrary to nature ; that the man saying 
“my wife,” thus parading a pretence to monopolize a 
non-coercible element is as ridiculous and preposterous as 
it he said, “my sky,” “my ocean,” “my sun.” That it 
is indisputable that a rich wife will lord it over a man ; a 
poor one will ruin him ; an ugly one will displease him ; 
and a pretty one turn out a fiirt.’ Then you will quote 
Chamfort, the bitterest of wits, who pretends that ‘ One 
of the best reasons against wedlock is that no man is 
entirely the dupe of any woman unless she is his wife.’ 
Or else the genial author of the Comedie Humaine^ who 
esteems it useless to marry a woman or subscribe to a 
newspaper, as there are always plenty of idiots who will 
keep you supplied.” 

Having thus orated, Horace waited with a satisfied 
smile the reply of his friend. 

La Forest, who had very attentively listened, though his 


92 


TJic Frolics of Cupid. 


countenance and all his attitude constantly testified to 
disdainful indifference, thought much could be said in 
retort. But he did not risk any observation, from his 
opinion that his friend was too weak to maintain the con- 
troversy. He resolved to dissuade him from his absurd 
design when his health should be completely restored 
and he was less highly excited by the recent events. 

Horace grew well more rapidly than the doctor prognos- 
ticated. He was admirably cared for, eating dainties, 
drinking the richest wines, attended by the doctor daily ; 
in short, having merely to manifest a desire, to have it 
satisfied by Prof. Nereus with unwonted and obsequious 
promptness. This arose not so much from sympathy as 
from the fear that the student knew too much for his 
peace of mind and the retention of his position. 

He had summoned La Forest into his presence to learn 
the truth ; and that hot-headed youth, wild at the risk his 
friend ran through Mile. Radegonde’s imprudence and 
Nereus’s coward flight into the open air, boldly told about 
their discovery of the midnight visits of the professor to 
the ladies’ school. He threatened to publish an account 
of it in the local journal and show that the worthy pair 
had led directly to the destruction of the seminary. 

It was a severe blow to the professor, this monstrous 
scandal, with the alarming perspective of being forever 
parted from his endeared Radegonde. But even this 
caused him less sharp pain and irritation than his being 
“bowled over” by two students. 

Robert had promised to hold his tongue in return for 
his friend being properly looked after, and full license 
being granted them while they remained at college. 
Hence La Forest could stay by his friend’s side a]:id help 
him to regain his health. 

At the commencement of August two weeks still sepa- 
rated the collegians from the holidays, and they employed 
them in strolls over the old grounds. 


The Frolics of Oipid, '93 

‘‘It's a good old college, after all,” exclaimed Horace in 
a softened voice, looking up at the repulsive building. 

“Yes, we have had a great deal of fun here,” agreed 
Robert. 

In the seminary park they roved through the wooded 
land, confusedly scanning the groves where the statues 
gleamed, and mentally following the winding paths that 
led to flowery plots and the shining lake. 

Long they gazed before proceeding to the more melan- 
choly avenue, at the end of which the lamentable black- 
ened ruins of the ladies’ school were heaped up. 

Horace shuddered at the remembrance of the dreadful 
danger his adored one had run; and Robert felt again the 
kisses of Suzanne. He believed he had never loved her 
more, and he fancied he saw her again, with her rosy 
mouth, roguish gestures, dear melodious voice, and 
those irresistibly seductive eyes, glittering like gold- 
spangled emeralds as when the sun’s final caress gilds 
the ocean. 

He felt acute remorse for not having inquired where 
the pupil-teacher had been housed after the Are. 

But it is the last day at Villefeuilles. They threaded 
the stony streets of the old town, and gradually, as a 
playful breeze scatters into unfathomable space the scent 
of roses, their sadness was dispersed and driven away. 
When they reached the railroad station their faces 
beamed, and their laughter rang out like clarion calls. 

“Adieu, Nereus! Adieu, Bauduel! Adieu, lentil-soup 
and salted fish and vexation of spirit ! We go to join the 
hosts of liberty, far from Rongem. Adieu!” 

And then they leaped into the cars and were hurried 
away to Belleville on the Boueuse. 


94 


The Frolics of Ciipid. 


CHAPTER XI. 

AN UNHAPPY FROLIC. 

Before proceeding upon our story of the two collegians 
and their charming fiancees, we must return to Professor 
Nereus and the elephantine Radegonde. 

Nereus was secretly pleased that Horace and Robert 
had gone. Of course he was a religious man— a Jesuit; 
but he was mortal, all the same; and much as he loved to 
meet the sub- superioress of the Ursulines in secret, he 
feared to continue his visits whilst the two students re- 
mained. After their departure, however, he renewed his 
nocturnal visits, and to the arts of love the two conse- 
crated individuals devoted themselves without fear or 
stint until an unhappy episode happened. It was this. 

One night when, as usual, Nereus escaped from Rongem, 
the Reverend Bauduel, having a feeling of insomnia, had 
also sauntered into the gardens. By the moon’s light he 
was telling his ‘ ‘ office. ” Suddenly he saw a figure emerge 
from the secret passage, and, little dreaming that it was 
the ascetic Nereus, he followed him. 

Of course his footsteps led the watcher towards the 
Ursuline Seminary. Bauduel was astounded. He could 
not understand it. He thought that it was some erring 
student. But no student knew the secret way; so his 
curiosity became intensified, and he cautiously followed 
the fiying steps of Nereus. 

On nearing the convent the advanced figure stopped ; 
so did Bauduel. The latter observed that a solitary lamp 
burned in one of the windows of the nunnery. This 
struck him as being peculiar, and he advanced cautiously 


The Frolics of Cupid, 95 

beneath the shade of the trees and shrubbery so as to 
find out where it stood. 

After a few minutes, during which Nereus had entered 
the convent, Pere Bauduel noticed that Sister Radegonde’s 
plump figure showed itself at the window, and he became 
more mystified than ever. But this escape from the col- 
lege into the convent must mean something hideously 
wrong. So he drew nearer— so near that he could hear 
distinctly the impatient ejaculations ; and he was surprised 
beyond measure to hear her say : 

“Oh, you ungrateful Nereus!” 

And he was even more surprised when a moment after- 
wards he heard P^re Nereus exclaim : 

“ My darling Radegonde 1” 

He did not wait for more. 

He was a pious man, though he was a glutton. He made 
vows, and he kept them. And he returned to the college 
bowed in spirit that one whom he beheved to be so good 
should be so weak and mundane. 

It was not until a week afterwards — after Bauduel 
had verified his suspicions — that Nereus or Radegonde 
had any suspicions that they were discovered. It ^was 
done quietly. But it was done swiftly and well; and the 
Elephant and her paramour bade their sad adieux to Ron- 
gem and the Ursulines within a month from that fateful 
night when Pere Bauduel could not sleep. 

But it is unnecessary to follow them upon their way. 
We have to learn the whereabouts and doings of the 
young girls Romaine and Suzanne and of the collegians. 
Ergo, d nos moutons. 


96 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


, CHAPTEE XII. 

A WAGER OF MARRIAGE. 

Two years have passed, and the two brothers of the 
college are still harbored under the same roof. But it is 
a house where they are masters, a captivating villa at 
Marnes, near Paris. 

At the end of his first year at the capital, Durien, who 
had given up the family intentions of making him a 
lawyer and turned his attention to medicine, passed the 
faculty examination, and La Forest had in the same period 
entered into possession of his diploma as engineer. 

Instead of taking the oflQcial berth in the Bridges and 
Eoads Department, under the government, to which he 
was entitled, Eobert accepted the management of an im- 
portant steel foundry at Puteaux. It was a splendid 
position for a young man, high salary, full independence, 
and added the very valuable acquisition, for one fond of 
city life, of having Paris within easy reach. 

In a few months, proving his capacity by magnificent 
results, he obtained a share in the profits, and naturally 
more authority and consideration with the increase of 
confidence. 

As for Durien, believing that no man is a prophet in 
his own country, he felt no desire to practise at Belleville 
on the Boneuse. He preferred Paris or its environs. 
And hence we find him at Marnes. 

The owner of the little villa, Madame de Lagarde, an 
amiable widow who was partial to her young tenants, 
retained a suite of rooms for her own use. She entreated 
Horace to buy the business of an old physician, lately 


The Frolics of Cupid. 97 

deceased ; and in a short time he opened his consulting- 
rooms in the old lady’s villa. 

But her affectionate sympathy had appeared too sud- 
denly not to inspire some distrust. 

“Our amiable landlady,” thought the doctor, “is 
amused and enlivened by my company, and to exhort me 
to continue it she is skilful enough to simulate motherly 
love.” 

But this ungenerous suspicion rapidly fled. He found 
many opportunities of appreciating the worthy dame’s 
fairness and rectitude, and of convincing himself of the 
sincerity of her affection. He was touched and grateful. 
And he exhibited a filial attachment for her during her 
long and painful illness. Her love doubled, and when her 
health was regained she hastened to make a gift to the 
young gentleman of the villa and grounds which he 
occupied with his other self. 

Horace had hotly protested, alleging that his services 
merited no such reward ; but the generous woman would 
not hear a word to the contrary, and had the transfer 
legally executed. 

From this time forward, considering him as her son, 
she interested herself as much in his future as she had in 
his current movements. When she saw him dull, she 
worried until she had ascertanied the cause. And it was 
thus she discovered that his melancholy sprang from 
some grief of the heart. 

When he acquainted her with the story of Eomaine, 
without mentioning names, of course, she was surprised 
by the tenacious impression that remained in his heart. 

She twitted him pitilessly in the same way as Eobert 
had for his incredible and vexatious impressibility, and, 
with a sly smile, concluded : 

“ In any case, my handsome Lovelace, I am going soon 
to present you to a young lady so witching and amiable 
that it will not be possible for you to avoid falling in love 
with her at first sight. She is the niece of an old friend 


98 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


of my late husband’s, a girl of complete education, brill- 
iant mind, as pure as pretty — ” 

‘ ‘As saintly as beauteous, ” interrupted Horace, mock- 
ingly. Well, it will not be of the least use to me.” 

“I think— I am certain, otherwise ; and Eobert shall be 
the judge in case you are blinded by the old flame.” 

Soon afterwards Horace Durien was called to attend 
a patient, and, in the anxiety of his profession, forgot 
the suggestion of Madame de Lagarde. 

But the affaire^ this proposition of making for him a 
love-match, was not obliterated from his memory. Time 
and again it recurred to him. And one day, when talking 
with La Forest, he said : 

“Eobert, I have the greatest regard for Madame de 
Lagarde — she has been so motherly to both you and me, 
but especially to me. But do you know what she proposes 
now ?” 

“No; something flnancially pretty, I suppose.” 

“ Don’t be foolish. She proposes to find me a wife.” 

And here Horace drew a face an ell long. 

“ Well, my dear boy, I congratulate you. I only wish 
she would find one for me. But what is the Madame 
Durien that is to be, described to be like?” 

“Confound you, Eobert ! Don’t you know well that 
there is only one woman I can ever marry ? Eomaine 
Durocher, wherever she is, is the only woman who can 
ever bear the name of Madame Horace Durien.” 

“Horace, you are an ass. Here is the good lady de 
Legarde who gives you a villa, and goodness knows what 
else ; now she is anxious to procure a goddess for a wife 
for her favorite ; and because of a boyish, and stupidly 
boyish — as I said at the time— attachment, monsieur the 
legatee squirms and flaunts as a virtuous Adonis. 
Pshaw, man ! Have a look at the girl. She is probably a 
million per cent better than our young Eomaine — ay, and 
perhaps more willing, too. You are good-looking. She, 
if she is feminine, can be vanquished without the solemn 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


99 


ties that this mock society insists upon. Hang it, old 
man, you are a fool!” 

Horace was not overpleased at La Forest’s harangue. 
It was, however, after his usual style when speaking on 
the marriage relations, and he said : 

“Robert, you should not jest upon such a subject. The 
old lady is sincere. Of course, as do all young men, we 
can indulge our natural desires ; but even you would not 
be guilty of harming a beautiful and innocent young 
girl.” 

Horace spoke from his heart. And La Forest was 
touched by the lecture those few words imported, and he 
said : 

“ Forgive me, Durien. I did not mean it in that sense. 
Why, damme, (as the Englishsay), if a man breathed 
such a thing about Suzanne I would call him out upon 
the spot — and you, too. Yes, I can understand the pre- 
dicament. But I wonder, old man, is there ever any 
chance of our being able to find our two friends of the 
convent ?” 

“God only knows. I wish .1 did. I would take a 
village parish dispensary for my practice if only I could 
be near where my Romaine is. And, Bob, I do honestly 
believe that that girl is true to me.” 

“It would be devilish funny if she wasn’t. She loved 
you to desperation before that confounded fire, and after- 
wards— why, the thing is ridiculous, Horace. Any girl 
will love the man who saved her life, especially if he is 
young and good-looking and gifted and— but you will 
think I am quizzing, and God knows I am not. That girl 
loved you more than anything I ever read or heard about. 
I wish I could say as much for Suzanne. ” 

And thus mutually adulating one another, the doctor 
and the engineer patted each other’s backs over the old 
love-romances of Villefeuilles. 

May had come again; and one morning Madame de 


lOO 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


Lagarde was sitting at her usual occupation of patchwork 
by the garden window, when Dr. Durien returned from 
his visits. Since some time she had concentrated herself 
on one piece of work which greatly puzzled him: on 
strips of turquoise satin she embroidered spotless flowers, 
and on other strips applied odd shapes of rich materials 
to form alternating bands with the satin ones, of bi- 
zarre figures mysteriously interlaced. To the initiated it 
w^as a “crazy-quilt.” Durien did not even know the 
name. 

When he questioned her, the lady would slyly glance 
at him, and invariably answer that he should know all 
about it in good time. 

“ It is a surprise for you,” she said. 

A little while after he had proceeded to his office, a 
rustle of highly-starched petticoats was audible in the 
passage, and the old lady lifted her head and uttered an 
exclamation of joyous astonishment. A young woman 
rushed into the room and ran to her with open arms and 
smiling countenance. Madame de Lagarde sprang up. 

“Romaine, my dear! Oh, the delightful surprise!” 

“ How happy I am to see you again !” 

The two embraced with effusion. 

“Oh, you runaway! If you only knew with what im- 
patience I have awaited you ! Tell me quickly what has 
happened you in the two long years since you left me. 
Have you become satiated with travelling? Have you got 
rid of your nervous depression ?” 

With extreme volubility the elderly dame plied the 
new-comer with questions which she herself interrupted 
by frequent effusions of affection. 

“Romaine, you have returned lovelier than ever!” 

Our heroine had indeed improved since she left the 
seminary. 

She was now in the enchanting bloom of early woman- 
hood. Her hair, as light in color as before, instead of 
falling thickly as of old, was coiled upon the top of the 


The Frolics of Ctipid, 


lOI 


head like a golden casque. Her eyes were still dark and 
bewitching as ever. The dimples in her cheeks remained 
like nests for kisses. Her dress was cut to display the 
exquisite purity of her contour. She was indeed singu- 
larly beautiful. In their delight at meeting, the ladies 
had not noticed two fresh visitors, who waited by the 
room door, smiling. 

One was a man of sixty, with a proud and energetic 
form. His frank and martial visage could only belong 
to a soldier. The other visitor was a young lady, three 
or four years the elder of Mile. Durocher. Without 
having her irresistible attractions, she was no less allur- 
ing— a superb creature. 

On hearing their steps, as they came forward at last, 
the seated ladies looked up and hurriedly rose. 

“Commandant du Vivray, be welcome,” said Madame 
de Lagarde, offering her hand to the old gentleman. 

Perceiving that the other visitor hung behind, silent and 
modest, Romaine went up to her and led her to the 
hostess. 

“Mile. Suzanne Lannois, the best, prettiest, and most 
perfect of friends,” she said. “Be quick in embracing 
her, for your friendship will have to make despatch to 
overtake mine of five years’ standing.” 

The old dame hastened to say delightedly : 

“My dear Mile. Suzanne, I consider Romaine as m}^ 
daughter; and as you are her bosom friend, I ought to 
have some claim to your love. Do you not think so? 
Really, you are both extraordinarily lovely,” enthusiasti- 
cally continued the hostess, as the contrast struck her li - 
the two divinities. 

Refreshments having been brought, the young ladies 
sat apart at the tea-table, while the dame and the guar- 
dian of Romaine discussed a matter of deep interest to 
that young lady. 

“So,” said the commandant, “you suppose that this 


102 


The Frolics of Oipid, 


young doctor, of whom you speak so praisingly in your 
letters, will please my niece?” 

I am certain of it.” 

“Let me tell you that the girl is abominably whimsical. 
She is always fretting about something; and taking her 
on a long tour— too long a one : to Italy, Egypt, the Holy 
Land, unholy lands, too ! — all did no good. If it had not 
been for her friend Suzanne, who lately cheered her up 
with her tireless chatter, her splendid health would have 
been undermined by some black sorrow. They made 
their acquaintance at boarding-school, at Villefeuilles- 
under-the-Forest. 

“In the midst of our travels, at Cairo, Eomaine ex- 
pressed a desire to return home, and a few days after our 
landing in France we were at this Villefeuilles. It is not 
a remarkable place ; but Romaine seemed to be accom- 
plishing a pious pilgrimage. We had to go up to the 
very door of the convent, where, suddenly, a young 
woman rushed out upon my niece, hugged her, and wept 
in joy in her arms. It was this Suzanne. You will not 
credit it, but Romaine coaxed me into engaging her to 
be her lady’s companion, and there they are linked to- 
gether ever since. I call it wickedness, madame! Is it 
conceivable that a mere school-friend should cure my 
niece’s blue- devils, and make her gay and happy, in 
which aim I miserably failed— I, who am her sole rela- 
tive, replacing her father, and the proper confidant of 
her joys and cares?” 

Madame de Lagarde made no remark. The name of 
Villefeuilles, that of the place where Durien’s college was 
situated, had been a ray of light. 

“I see,” said she to herself. Then going over to Ro- 
maine, and directing the uncle, with a glance that the old 
campaigner understood, to monopolize Suzanne, she 
began an attack upon her which had its novel features. 

“ What is your age, Romaine?” she said abruptly. 

“ Twenty,” in surprise. 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


103 


“Let me tell you that you are at an age to marry, 
and you must reason that you cannot always live at your 
guardian’s. At the same time, it will never do to have 
him lose your company altogether, any more than I 
should like it ; and it is with the thought of keeping you 
a little for both of us that I ask permission to present to 
you, to-morrow, a worthy and charming young man.” < 

“A young man!” exclaimed the commandant’s niece 
in astonishment ; and, with tears in her voice, she con- 
tinued : “ I see that you have divined the greater part of 
my secret.” 

“No; only I conclude that you, who have been su- 
premely indifferent to the many suitors presented by 
your uncle, will not be able to resist the handsome young 
doctor whom I favor.” 

“ Allow me to laugh.” 

“ Because you look well laughing, you little coquette I” 

“Well, I shall only feel the great esteem I owe to all of 
your friends. I cannot love him— I ought not to do so.” 

“ Ought not ? Then you love another ?” 

“Alas, yes! In my heart is an infinite, imperishable 
love — one of those despotic passions which Time itself 
cannot efface. The school was the cradle of my love, and 
our plans for marriage were made when Horace — ” 

“Horace!” ejaculated the old lady, turning very pale. 

“ The name appears strange to you, I dare say — stilted, 
classical; but I have uttered it so many times that it 
seems sweet and soft. Let me not speak it — let me not 
say more. Cruel fate has parted us, and I am incon- 
solable !” 

“Tut, tut! You will console yourself with the new 
suitor, because he is handsome and you are young; 
because it is easy to fall into the habit of making love ; 
because, though it seems, to you inadmissible, you will 
recover your Horace in the man I am going to introduce 
to you.’^ 

The girl laughed derisively. 


104 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


“No, dear, I would wager all that is precious to me 
that my feelings towards your wonder will be the same 
I have invincibly felt for all others— sovereign indif- 
ference.” 

“ Would you stake a hundred thousand francs on it?” 

“Why, certainly! I was thinking of buying the villa 
next yours— no doubt worth the sum you stated. You 
would not like to have to pay that for me?” 

“It is a wager! I will present my candidate. In one 
hour after, you shall declare your sentiments, and I will 
rely on your fair-dealing.” 

“ In an hour ! Impossible ! Uncle ! Suzanne !” merrily 
called out Eomaine, “ prepare to hear the most startling 
and comical of news!” 

And laughingly she related the terms of the wager. 

“ Now, my darlings,” said the hostess, “ I must go and 
instruct my lawyer to draw up the marriage-contract! 
To-morrow !” 

And shaking the hand of the astounded commandant, 
and hurriedly kissing the two girls, she disappeared be- 
fore the latter could think to detain her. 


The Frolics of Cupids 


105 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE STING OF REMORSE. 

Horace and Robert had kept up the habit of their col- 
lege days of early rising. It was in the woods which 
cover with their green shadow the hills from Chaville to 
Viroflay that they took their strolls nearly every day. 
From one narrow point a view is afforded of the pretty 
valley serpentining from Sevres to Versailles, the plain 
cut by the Seine’s blue ribbon, the villages, the factories 
with slender red chimneys, and the gray, hazy line of 
the colossal town of the Passions in the blue distance. 

It was about seven in the morning, and the sun dis- 
persed the mists. They smoked in camp chairs and 
languidly gazed on the panorama. 

“ Another fine day I” absently muttered Durien, tossing 
away the cigar he had allowed to die out. 

“Very!” replied La Forest, who began to stare at one 
point in the landscape with odd persistency. 

“ What are you looking at. Bob?” 

“ That white house almost hidden by the large trees. 
Do you see it?” 

“ I know it. It is the Poplars, a fine large place, long 
neglected.” 

“You are wrong. It has tenants. My strange idol is 
enshrined there.” 

“ Your idol?” 

“ Yes, a young lady I met on the highway.” 

“ And you have not told me?” 

“ But it is not an adventure, it is only a meeting.” 

“ Never mind; tell me as soon as you can.” 


Io6 The Frolics of Cupid, 

La Forest drew his folding-chair closer to his friend’s 
and said : 

“ You will remember that, yesterday, after our morn- 
ing’s stroll, you went down the hill to Ville d’Avray 
to visit a patient. On my side, I very slowly lounged 
towards home. I thus arrived at that picturesque spot 
where we have often admired the deep ravine that gives 
an impression of its having been the bed of a dried-up 
torrent. I felt a burning desire to go down into its dark 
depths ; and spying a path that ran circuitously to the 
bottom, I descended. So weird was the contracted view 
in this gap that I felt the yearning to fix some of the 
marked features upon paper. I had been some three 
hours thus engaged, and finished my sketch, when some- 
thing made me look up. On the roadside, staring down 
into the gorge, were two promenaders, an old gentleman 
and a young lady, whose singular eyes met mine. She 
lowered her red parasol as if to conceal her face from 
sight, and her cavalier drew her hastily away. 

“Conceive my astonishment! It seems to me there is 
nothing about me to appal any mother’s daughter, yet I 
cannot reasonably admit that I had not frightened that 
lady away. My determination was quickly taken. The 
best means of learning the true cause of the flight was to 
follow the woman and make sure whether we were ac- 
quaintances or not. I reached the road in time to see 
them at a distance, but I did not overtake them. They 
entered that villa. I hung around in hopes she would 
draw aside a curtain to peep, or that a servant would 
come out who might be bribed. But no. I do not know 
yet whether that girl with a matchless figure is the wife 
or daughter of the old party. If she be his wife- ” He 
began to laugh, but ceased abruptly as Madame de 
Lagarde appeared on the edge of the little terrace. 

The worthy woman was smiling, and her clear, kindly 
eyes shone with unaccustomed brilliancy. All her phy si- 


The Frolics of Cupid. 107 

ognomy reflected unspeakable contentment and good- 
natured maliciousness. 

“ I notice you are surprised to see me disturbing you so 
early,” she said. “ But my motive justifies me. I desire 
your presence in an hour as my escort to a place where 
you will have ample opportunity to put into operation 
the deep plans of strategy you are devising against our 
gentle sex. This has a bearing on the conversation we 
lately held, Horace, about a fair beauty to whom I was to 
introduce you. I assert more strongly than ever that 
she is handsomer than the pretty school -girl with whom 
you were infatuated when little better than a boy.” 

Durien abruptly rose as if to utter an energetic denial; 
but he suddenly refiected, and contented himself by smil- 
ing incredulously. 

“Why, you have never seen the lady,” he observed 
after a while. “ How can you compare them?” 

“ I will trust to your fairness and the judgment of your 
friend, whom I beg to take as arbitrator. He will be an 
impartial one, and his eyes will not be filled with the 
vision of any lovely woman.” 

Robert was much puzzled by her teasing smile. “ Can 
she know about my adventure?” he questioned his friend 
when she had gone. “lam afraid it is so, and she is 
under the apron-strings of your kind friend In that 
case, marriage hovers over me, and you know the 
thought of it makes my fiesh creep. You see that I am 
as full of thought as you.” 

“Well, we must be ingenious to get out of this blind 
alley, and call on our old wisdom to guide us as in our 
bold love-escapades.” 

Since a kind of desperate action impended, Durien i 
dressed himself in his best, like a general for his decisive » 
battle. His black frock-coat marvellously set off his 
sculptural harmony. In all his movements were the ease 
and elegance of the modern athletic gentleman. 


lo8 The Frolics of Cnpid, 

Madame de Lagarde looked at him with ecstatic ad- 
miration. 

“ How handsome he is! how she will love him!” 

She had prepared the plan of campaign, and led them 
^to a little garden-gate of which she had the private key. 
The young men were unable to tell where they were 
brought. But, strange though the grounds were, she had 
no hesitation in leaving La Forest by hir.iSelf, while she 
guided her jprofegre into the house by its v. randa. 

Robert mechanically let himself sink upon a small stone 
bench in a bower of tangled plants and creepers. 

“ I was a little hasty,” he said to himself, “ in thinking 
Madame de Lagarde had any match-making move— with 
me as an object. At least, until she gets poor Horace 
safely tied up, she will not pay me any attention. If it 
were anybody else who had acted so, I should say it was 
down-right mean.” 

With an absent look and his head sunk on his breast, 
he meditated profoundly, chiefly of the strange woman 
who had fled when their eyes met. A question having 
arisen in his mind, he lifted his head instinctively, as if the 
desired solution were written on the distant azure ; and 
he uttered an exclamation of surprise, for not thirty paces 
from him he caught the side-view of a stylish young lady. 

I am dreaming! I am the sport of an oppressive de- 
lusion!” he said to himself , in consternation. ‘‘But no! 
it is really a very living young lady ; she is arrayed in a 
magnificent sea-green dress. Oh, what a figure ! a marvel 
of purity, suppleness, and temptation ! But her face ; let 
me see that face. Impossible, for she unkindly hides it 
in her white mantilla ! By all that’s lovely, it is my 
strange beauty! Oh, this time, you pretty tease, you 
shall not escape me !” 

At the close of his soliloquy the engineer abruptly rose, 
and in all haste directed his steps towards the very at- 
tractive mystery. 

With a little free-and-easy step, infinitely graceful, 


The Frolics of Ciipid, 109 

she came towards him. She appeared in no way sur- 
prised to see the young man resolutely advancing towards 
her, and, far from taking to flight as on the previous oc- 
casion, she continued to approach with a rather haughty, 
buoyant tread. 

It was, indeed, impossible to see her face under an 
ample ivory -colored mantilla, cunningly folded and held 
by a small white hand, on which sparkled the rays of an 
amethyst like a flne network of light. 

The fantastic creature had nothing to fear from the in- 
discretion of the gentleman, convinced that, if such were 
her good pleasure, she would remain under shield of her 
thick lace, an enigma to him, while singularly alluring. 

In a few seconds Robert was before the young woman. 
He respectfully took off his hat, and said in an easy tone : 

“ I suppose, gracious stranger, you did not expect to 
find here the man from whom you fled as from a leper 
yesterday.” 

“Perhaps I did, Robert.” 

“ What! do you know my name?” cried he in dismay. 

“ I know a good deal more about you.” 

“ Who are you, then?” 

“ Guess.” 

“ I should be at a loss, as I do not recollect ever hav- 
ing seen so captivating a form, or heard a voice so fondly 
sweet.” 

“ Always so prodigal of your gallant nonsense 1 Come, 
come, dear M. La Forest, is it impossible for you to speak 
to a woman without overwhelming her with flattery and 
other testimony of your prompt and facile admiration?” 

“But-” 

“Do not cry out against it. I am willing to wager 
that you would not confine yourself to that, hut in a 
few minutes will be on your knees, trotting out one of 
those warm, eloquent, and treacherous improvisations 
so familiar to you— the sudden love— I may say, the vio- 
lent, desperate passion you will pretend to feel for me. 


I lO The Frolics of Cnpid. 

Ah, how many poor dupes your studied, honeyed speech 
must have made !” 

“You wholly mistake me, and I swear that — ” 

“ Come, come, Robert, no swearing!” laughingly inter- 
rupted the tease. “ I know you too well not to be aware 
that your speech is never in accord with your heart.” 

“ Fie! what a vile opinion you have of me! I should 
like to know what could have inspired it?” 

“The past.” 

“Really ! What can the past reveal which you pretend 
so well to know?” 

“ You shall have it. You are an incomparable friend, 
sincere and devoted ; but a fickle, disloyal, and perfidious 
lover — a criminal horrible and atrocious in my eyes.” 

“But this is an abominable calumny, which I flatter 
myself I shall convince you — ” 

“ How?” 

By pledging myself, by a sacred, solemn oath, to love 
you all my life.” 

“ Good ! Here you are, falling back into your habitual 
sin. Did I not tell you that you would incontinently 
make me a declaration of love?” 

And she mystified him still more by a peal of charm- 
ingly melodious and endearing laughter. 

“Well, I grant, you wicked jester, that I have some 
peccadilloes of my youth to reproach myself for. I have 
been inconstant in my amours. But let the woman 
among you who has always been faithful — at least in 
mind — cast the first stone at me. Besides, why make 
that fault a crime which your winning person is called 
upon to correct in me?” 

“ I doubt it, since a good number of my sex have 
failed to succeed in it.” 

“ Because none of them possessed your wit, grace, and, 
above all, your goddess-like attractions.” 

“You incorrigible flatterer ! Who told you I was good- 
looking, even?” 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


III 


Ev€iy thing in you proves it, for that small portion 
of your countenance which you offer to my spell-bound 
gaze is perfect ! Tell me why you conceal the ravishing 
countenance.” 

Out of coquetry.” 

“Indeed this girl is a coquette who is very pleasing, or 
so uncomely a woman that she will frighten,” thought 
La Forest. “ That would be so if you were misshapen,” 
he said aloud ; ‘‘ but I am persuaded that your face is ex- 
quisitely beautiful.” 

“ Where do you derive such certainty?” 

“From the fact that sublime nature, after forming a 
body of such ideal perfection, would never have joined 
an unpleasing face to it.” 

“You deceive yourself designedly, Robert, for you 
know better than another, by a guilty experience, that a 
handsome body and an ugly face may often come to- 
gether. Now, confess that, after having made the vow 
to adore me, you would be greatly disappointed if on the 
fall of my mantilla you perceived a monster’s dreadful 
hideousness.” 

“ That cannot be— it is not so!” affirmed the engineer, 
positively. ‘ ‘ In the first place, your eyes have beauty and 
an unequalled expression. In spite of the thick veil un- 
worthily covering them, they sparkle, mocking and dis- 
concerting, dazzling as incredibly brilliant emeralds! I 
know also that your luxuriant ebony hair raises a shad- 
owy barrier upon your snowy forehead, and runs in 
waves on the temples, and down upon the nape, where 
they begin to curl around your slender neck.” 

This was all that La Forest knew of the perplexing 
woman, having only seen the back of her head and the 
gleam of her greenish eyes. But he was bent on painting 
the portrait from imagination, and making it a model of 
perfection, so that he might please the sitter even by the 
faults he fell into. But she checked him before he ran 
too deep into details. 


II2 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


‘‘Then, insidious tease, do not longer try to cheat me, 
hut hasten to cast off the embarrassing mantilla, which 
deprives me of the most radiant vision that a mortal is 
allowed to gaze upon.” 

“Bravo, Robert, bravo! I know beforehand that you 
do not believe one word of all your compliments, but I 
must acknowledge that they are not disagreeable to 
listen to,” 

“I swear to you that they are sincere.” 

“ Dear me !” sneered the stranger. “Would you per- 
suade me that a lie only deceives the utterer? No, no! 
I shall not remove my mantilla. I do not wish to show 
the impoliteness of contradicting a portrait made with so 
much good faith, or the cruelty to destroy such sweet 
illusions !” 

And again her fresh and musical laugh embarrassed 
him. 

“She may be ugly after all,” mused the gallant. “A 
really handsome woman is too vain of her charms to 
keep them long from the admiring gaze. No, that is not 
admissible ! But then what is the meaning of this mys- 
tery? And she appears to me too clever not to see the 
ridicule and exposure she incurs, and, also, too proud and 
sensitive to employ such vulgar proceedings. But then, 
if fair, how is her obstinacy about showing her features 
to be accounted for? Stop a bit! May not this be some 
hoax of which Madame de Lagarde is unhappily the insti- 
gator? Indeed, the whole thing has an odd look ! Wliy 
should this young person, who pretends to know me so 
well, have avoided me yesterday like a scourge? What 
has she to fear from me? Let us try to clear this up! 
Well,” he said, “fair lady of mystery, since it is your 
capricious desire, keep on that hateful veil that gives 
you the air of an Oriental. But, for mercy’s sake, deign 
to explain to me why you use such cruel reserve. Tell 
me who you are.” 


The Frolics of Cupid. 1 13 

‘‘I declared to you that I left the task of guessing to 
your astonishing penetration.” 

“Never having seen you before, and addressing you 
for the first time, how can you expect me to manage 
that?” 

“I beg your pardon. You have often seen me; you 
noticed me particularly.” 

“ Ah ! then you admit that you are lovely !” exclaimed 
Robert, with noisy delight ; and he added, as if speaking 
to himself: “Have I ever wasted my time by looking 
at an ill-favored woman, or even a creature with the 
fallen angel’s attractions?” 

These words so surely came from his heart, and his 
unstudied gesture of denial was so striking, that the tor- 
mentor could not withhold an approving nod, completed 
by an entirely sincere “ I believe you.” 

Puzzled into a fever, LaForest taxed his memory to 
recover the image of this tease among all the brunettes 
who had attracted his attention or admiration. But it 
was in vain that he called up innumerable visions; not 
one exactly corresponded to the present figure, who so 
deeply enjoyed his embarrassment. 

What was to be done. 

After some seconds’ reflection, our “toad under the 
harrow” concluded that he could not get out of the 
scrape but by beguiling her, by skilful, insinuative ques- 
tions, into reminding him in what place and under what 
circumstances he had seen her. 

“So I have spoken with you?” he asked. 

“Often, I told you.” 

“Then I must have expressed the ardent love which 
your winning person enkindled?” 

“Certainly. You spared neither words of praise, nor 
warm declarations, nor solemn oaths to adore me all 
your life.” 

“Well, I renew them to-day; I wish to love you vio- 
lently. I wish to be the lover to realize all your desires, 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


1 14 

share the same thoughts, feel the same longings. I wish 
. to forget this envious, wicked, and hypocritical world in 
order to see and hear you alone and live but for you.” 

Seizing her white, satiny hands, Laforest continued in 
a gravely entreating voice : 

“Tell me, you gracious creature, that you will forget 
any wrongs I may have committed towards you, and 
accept the heart I offer you ! Are* we to take refuge in 
some sweet solitude, and share the good and the evil of 
life without ever parting? Tell me: are you willing?” 

“ If you mean to repair your broken promise to make 
me your wife, perhaps yes. ” 

“She is not a bit stupid,” thought the engineer. “I 
talk of love, and she categorically answers ‘marriage.’ 
All her kind, it is true, hold out for Hymen. Anyway, I 
should be silly to recoil like a boy and declare that mar- 
riage is repugnant to me. In the first place, some women 
like to be humbugged to conceal their weakness. So I 
must try to win the favors of this witch ; afterwards we 
will employ all our rhetoric to prove that marriage is an 
old institution quite against nature — ‘a prose translation 
of the poem entitled Love."* 

‘ ‘ What is your condition, tyrant ?” he asked in a voice 
steeped in tenderness. 

“Well, M. Laforest, you must make your confession— 
{.mean, briefly relate your conquests. Oh, I do not claim 
particulars ! As they are more numerous than the stars, 
your stories would be interminable, and your faulty 
memory would poorly serve you. But I wish to know 
which darlings you really loved, and whose sweet memory 
lingers in the depths of your heart. If this proof is 
favorable to you—” 

“Well?” 

The large sea-green eyes sparkled generously and with 
promise under the lace veiling, and the woman mur- 
mured in a coaxing, vaguely supplicatory voice : 

“ Well, Robert, the curtain will fall, and I shall defend 


The Frolics of Cupid, 1 1 5 

myself weakly if your lips should dare audaciously to 
come anywhere near mine.” 

La Forest started; a strangely voluptuous sensation 
mounted his temples and stiffened his limbs. 

“Assure me,” he ardently implored, “that this confes- 
sion will do me no harm in your heart. ” 

“I promise.” 

“Then let me declare to you, on my honor, that in my 
life only one woman truly lifted my heart up into the 
infinite— one alone whose immortally sweet memory I 
preserve, as you said. It was a school-girl teacher at 
the Ursuline Seminary at Villefeuilles, where I was 
at college. But what ails you?” 

The stranger, indeed, appeared to feel very keen emo- 
tion; her throat heaved, and all her limbs nervously 
shook. But, on the words, she overcame the shock by 
an energetic effort of the will, and answered in a voice 
which she failed to make firm : 

“No, there is nothing the matter with me. I am listen- 
ing to you interestedly. Pray continue.” 

“My connection with this school-miss lasted two or 
three months, till the vacation arrived,” pursued La Forest. 
“ Since I quitted college I have been unable to learn what 
became of her. It follows that every time I think of 
her — ” 

As he stopped abruptly, she nervously and impatiently 
exclaimed : 

‘ ‘ Every time — Go on ; be done !” 

“ I feel a biting remorse,” added Eobert, in a low tone, 
as if speaking to myself. 

“ That was the girl named Suzanne, I suppose?” 

“Yes; do you know her?” questioned La Forest, sur- 
* prised. 

“I did ; but the poor thing pined away with grief after 
you cast her off.” 

“Suzanne dead ! What do you say?” burst forth the 
young man, turning very pale and trembling. 


ii6 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


“I say/’ resumed the mysterious creature, cruelly 
emphasizing her words, “that she could not support your 
neglect, and put an end to her misery, unhappy girl ! two 
months after your depax'ture.” 

“ Oh, heavens! Suzanne, poor child ! One so fair and 
generous !” 

Robert was livid. His whole body trembled; large 
tears empearled his eyes and dropped scorchingly on the 
stranger’s hand. For some minutes he remained immo- 
bile, cast down by this crushing divulgement ; then, 
abruptly receding, he called out, in a hoarse voice broken 
by sobs: 

“ Oh, I am a scoundrel I I am ashamed of myself, and 
will not long insult you with my presence.” 

La Forest would have fled, but the stranger, trembling 
with emotion, precipitately wound her arms around his 
neck and murmured : 

“My Robert, my dear Robert! Tell me, was this 
Suzanne so very fair?” 

“Very,” he sternly said, striving to disengage himself. 

“Fairer than I ?” 

Suddenly drawing back, she unfastened the mantilla. 

“Suzanne I my dear Suzanne ! Is it possible?” 

“ Yes, your Suzanne, who has never ceased to think of 
you— who loves you, and wishes no more to leave you !” 

The two loving ones rushed into one another’s arms, 
and so convulsively impassioned was their embrace that 
both almost blessed the painful separation which had 
earned this moment of maddening joy. 

They long remained enclasped, not uttering a word, 
scarcely thinking ; only revelling in delicious love. 

At length, very gently, they freed themselves from the 
delightful imprisonment. 


The Frolics of Citpid 


117 


CHAPTER XIY. 

THE LOYE TOKEN. 

When Madame de Lagarde parted from La Forest in 
the garden, she ushered Horace into the drawing-room 
of The Poplars, where the following strange conversation 
took place : 

“Do you know, Madame de Lagarde, that what you 
propose for my happiness cannot result as you desire? 
Do you see this ring ?” showing the ring which Romaine 
had sent him by Robert after the convent-fire incident. 

“Yes,” said the old gentlewoman, becoming excited. 
“ Please let me look at it, M. Durien.” 

She took it from him and examined it carefully, ex- 
claiming: 

“ Ma foi, but it is curious !” 

“ What do you mean, madame ? Is it not a beautiful 
ring ?” 

“ It wasn’t that I meant, Horace.” 

“ But seeing it seems to have made a deep impression 
upon you. I beseech you to tell me what memories this 
ring conjures up. Of course I know that they cannot 
concern the young lady I met at Villefeuilles. You could 
not have known her. But I am aware that curious rings 
often resemble each other; and, from your apparent ner- 
vousness, I feel sure you must have seen such a ring. Is 
there not some ancient meaning attaching to the two 
opals and the solitary amethyst ?” 

Madame de Lagarde blushed; for into her memory 
there came the incidents which once, long ago, led to her 


The Frolics of C^ipid. 


Ii8 

being presented with this very ring. It was an old relic 
of the time when, young, like Romaine, she loved M. 
Lagarde. But, unlike Romaine, she and her lover loved 
too well to wait for the consummation of their passion in 
marriage. 

She had given this ring to Romaine whilst she was still 
a young child, shortly after M. Legarde’s death. And 
now, when she saw it again, a tumult of conjectures 
rushed through her brain, and she thought : 

“Could it be possible that this lovely girl, too, has al- 
ready responded, love for love, as did I ? Flow I know 
that it is Romaine Horace loves, and that — but here is a 
doubt. God grant that it is he who has loved as did La- 
garde ; for, God forgive me, the coincidence of this ring 
impresses itself upon me that a similar thing has hap- 
pened. But she has not forgotten him, nor been untrue, 
and I know he has not.” 

And then, brightening up again, whilst Horace looked 
on in amazement at her absent-mindedness, she said : 

“Yes, Horace, I have once before seen a ring so similar 
that I cannot doubt that it is the same. I pray, however, 
that the same sin which was committed when I first saw 
it did not usher it into your possession ?” 

Horace paled a little as he asked: 

“ What do you mean, madame ? The young lady who 
sent me this ring was pure as the snow. Do you think 
that I should, otherwise, cherish her so dearly? I am at 
a loss to understand the hidden meaning of your words.” 

It was now the old lady’s turn to blush deeply. But 
his almost angry assurance that the romance of the ring 
|did not follow Romaine made her feel herself again, and 
she continued : 

“ Horace, I cannot explain to you the meaning of the 
strange sentences I have spoken. They refer to a peculiar 
incident which happened concerning this very ring, which 
in no way, now, concerns you or me; but — ” 

But here Durien interrupted her by exclaiming: 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


119 

“ Then, Madame de Legarde, the young lady you desire 
me to see must be my own Eomaine Durocher. For 
God’s sake, do not keep me in suspense !” 

A flush of exquisite pleasure overspread the old lady’s 
face. Her suspicions that her favorites were the lovers, 
as well as the assurance that the superstitious fear the 
sight of the ring gave her was unfounded, made her heart 
bound with joy; and now that the assurance was made 
doubly sure, she decided to continue the enactnient of the 
comedy she had originally planned, and she brightened 
up quizzically as she said : 

“Horace, my dear, I am sorry I cannot answer your 
question. I am unacquainted with the young lady you 
are so enamoured of. But I will wager that before one 
hour you will have forgotten all about your school-love 
and will be soul to soul in love with the charming young 
lady I shall present you to.” 

“I assure you, madame, that if the young lady you are 
about to introduce me to is any other than Eomaine 
Durocher, I must ask you to allow me to retire now. The 
incident of this ring has renewed my determination and 
awakened my memories. I cannot allow the temptation 
even of a new divinity to assail me.” 

Madame de Legarde was charmed by his faithfulness, 
and, knowing how true also was Eomaine, she felt super- 
latively happy, and, embracing Horace, she said : 

“My dear boy, perhaps it is your Eomaine. But you 
will soon know. By the way, is there any means by 
which you think it possible she could know you — your 
voice, for instance— without seeing you ?” 

“What do you mean ? Oh yes, I understand. Yes, 
Madame de Legarde. I see there is a piano here. I com- 
posed a solo in a cantata for Eomaine Durocher, which I 
played only for her. She became ill immediately after, 
and it was never sung. If the young lady is Eomaine, 
she will recognize it, for it was upon the occasion of that 
rehearsal that I declared my love and found that it was 


120 


The Frolics of Ciipid. 


reciprocated. I shall play it here and sing the opening 
part, which is for a baritone. You can Jiave the young 
lady listen in some adjoining room. If she does not 
recognize it, please allow me to beg that you will dismiss 
me. I am unable for the task of being introduced to a 
lady who is forewarned that I am an eligible par^^.” 

“Very well, Horace; it shall be as you ask. Wait here 
until I shall return;” and so saying, the old lady disap- 
peared through an inner door. 


The Frolics of Cupid, 


I2I 


CHAPTER XV. 

STRIKING THE RIGHT NOTE. 

In the room where she penetrated, the two girls were 
chatting with some animation, while the commandant 
read a newspaper. 

“Suzanne, I wish to be alone with Romaine; so, 
would you please take a turn in the gardens?” 

“She is welcome to my arm,” observed the soldier, 
rising. 

“ No, no, I shall take that!” for the excellent woman 
had rapidly thought that Suzanne and Robert might too 
soon renew their acquaintance, and come hurrying to the 
house before the other scene took place in the order she 
had plotted. The sight of the commandant would prob- 
ably repel them for a short time. 

“ But you are going, too,” remarked Romaine, “ though 
you said you wanted to speak with me—” 

“Oh, I shall return in a moment.” 

Romaine found the moment insufferably long. Irri- 
tated, she felt vaguely that some event was under way. 
She paced the room with a trembling step, and was at last 
about to follow the others, when, all at once, the piano in 
the drawing-room burst into melody like a living thing 
that had found a long-silenced voice. 

“Oh, they have had the tuner in,” she said testily. 
“Well, he is a good musician ! That’s grand music !” she 
muttered with a manner half comic, half astonished. 
“Gracious! that is the cantata composed by my Hor-. 
ace. Has it been printed and become popular? How can 
this young man from the music-seller’s know it other- 
wise?” 


122 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


Then, as a splendid baritone voice filled the room, she 
listened with growing belief that the singer was Durien, 
who alone could know the piece so well. 

Oh, if it should be Horace !” she panted. ‘‘I am going 
,mad! No, that is the well-known passage where the 
soprano comes in. He plays the overture — he sings the 
few notes which announce my coming ! Ah ! I come !” 

And slowly advancing, singing with all her power and 
charm, as on the last memorable occasion of the rehearsal 
when their love was declared, Romaine entered the 
drawing-room, and stood before the player at the piano. 

Two frantic notes resounded— not down in the score— 
and the breathless lovers rushed to one another, lips to 
lips, tears rolling down their cheeks, and a furious 
avalanche of kisses, interrupted by sobs and brief words. 

‘ ‘ My Romaine ! my loved one !” 

“You, my Horace! my life! my happiness !” 

“ Bravo ! bravo !” shouted La Forest, whom the presence 
of the commandant, Suzanne, and Madame Lagarde 
could not restrain. “ You will never get your vocalists to 
perform that love-duet so naturally, I am afraid 1” 


The Frolics of Cupid. 


123 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE SUPREME JOY. 

The early days of September had come. Horace and 
his young wife, leaning on their window-balcony, silently 
drank in the charm of the calm and reposeful evening. 
Night fell slowly, enshrouding the country and veiling 
the hills. Gradually the shrill chirps of insects, the songs 
of birds, and the various noises in the valley faded into 
stillness. 

The wedded pair were silent, too, overcome by that 
absolute hush upon all beings. 

They nestled closely to each other. Romaine had 
thrown her arms around her idolized husband’s neck, and 
bowed her head upon his shoulder. Her adorable form 
faintly asserted itself as it pressed against him. 

Soon Paris scintillated with its myriads of white and 
yellow lights, like a fairy palace. 

The breeze strengthened, tangling the happy ones’ hair, 
and tossing up to them detached flowers from the garden. 

“How delicious the night is!” sighed Romaine in his 
ear. 

“What matters the night, the fruit and the flowers? 
They may decay and fade forever. Give to me your 
heavenly lips that I may refresh myself on their divine 
ambrosia.” 

With quivering eyelids, breathless and palpitating, 
Romaine held up that cup of inexhaustible delight, ever 
fresh and honeyed. And the lips of the happy couple 
met in a long, tender, impassioned kiss. 

They had found love. The supreme joy was theirs. 


THE END. 


THE LATEST PARISIAN SENSATION 


ALL FOR HIM. 

lEroa anb Hnteros. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRTY-EIGHTH FRENCH EDITION 

BY 

KRKDERIC IvYSXER. 

One volume, 12mo, paper covers. 25 cents. 


‘‘All for Him” has created in Paris a that few books 
of the present time have attained. The sale has been phenomenal 
throughout the Republic. The ancient Greeks divided the passion 
of love into two forms, one the spiritual essence or pure affection, 
called “ Eros the other the earthly or sensual passion, which tliey 
named “ Anteros,” the opposite of purity. Upon this theme the 
author has created a most stirring and sensational romance, based on 
these two phases of the ruling power governing the human heart. 
It is the history of two sisters exactly alike in outward form but 
totally dissimilar in character. The hero of the story is thrown 
into companionship with these two women, both young, and alike 
beautiful. He soon falls a victim to the seductive wiles of the one 
who is the “Anteros ” of his fate, and who proves as false to him as 
to the unworthy husband whom she had betrayed. Then the opposite 
and better part of his nature is awakened through an affection for 
the other sister, which under the most striking and dramatic situa- 
tions develops the power of love typifying that “ Eros ” of the Greeks 
so essential to true happiness. There is not a dull page in the book, 
and the translation leaves nothing to be asked for. 

“All for Him ” is a m.odel of sensational interest and startling 
effects worked out by psychological reasoning in a well-defined plot, 
admirably conceived and faithfully executed, in which all the charac- 
ters are true to life. 

“All for Him” is published as No. 4 of Pollards Popular 
Publications. i2mo, paper covers. Price, 25 cents. 

For sale by all book and news dealers, or sent by mail, postage 
paid, upon receipt of twenty-five cents by the publishers, 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

13 Barclay Street, New York. 


TOLSTOI’S LATEST! 

THE 

SUPPRHSSEI) BOOK 

OF THE 

PEASANT BONDAREFF. 



Interdicted by the Czar of Rtissia. 

MADE KNOWN, AUGMENTED, AND EDITED BY 

COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. 


TRANSLATED BY 

MISS MARY CRUGER. 


“ In the sweat of thy face shalt thou knead bread, till thou return 
unto the groundl — Genesis III, xix. 

Labor is the frtiit of the tree of life — ive live by it ; we die without 
it. Adam's posterity inherit his punish7nent and regain Paradise 
07ily by obeying God's commatid to Labor. 

This remarkable work will form No. 2 of Pollard’s Popular 
Publications, complete and unabridged, in one volume, 12mo, 
uniform with the “ Kreutzer Sonata.” FrU 25 CetUs, 

Bondareff’s book will create even more adverse criticism than the 

Kreutzer Sonata,” while the trials and extreme poverty of the 
peasants’ life and aims will stir the sympathies of every human 
heart. 

Sent by mail, to any address, upon receipt of 25 cents, by the 
. ublishers, 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

ta BARCLAY STREET, NEW Y^RK 


THE 


Clemenceau Case. 

(MfiMOIEE DE L’ACCUSE.) 

BY ALEXANDER DUMAS, 

AUTHOR OF CAMILLE, ETC. 

Translated from the Twenty-third French Edition by 
Frederic Lyster. 


THE ONLY COMPLETE EDITION PUBLISHED, 


In presenting to the public Mr. Lyster’s translation of 
this remarkable work, we desire to call attention to the 
fact of its completeness, embracing, as it does, a large 
amount of matter having direct bearing on the plot, that 
is omitted in other translations of this masterpiece of 
realism. This edition is the only one containing the 
striking and dramatic episode in which the predestined 
fate of Iza is foreshadowed by the bloody vision seen by 
Clemenceau in his delirium at the time of Minati's death, 
and which is intended to emphasize the future fate which 
Destiny intended should be the punishment of Iza. 

Get Lyster’s translation if you want to read Dumas’ 
work. 

It is published in No. 3 of Pollard’s Popular Publica- 
tions. i2mo, paper covers. Price, J25 cents. 

For sale by all book and news dealers, or sent by mail, 
postage paid, upon receipt of twenty-five cents by the 
publishers, 

THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

13 Barclay Street, New York, 


“Pax VoBiscuM” 


j^isriD 

“The Greatest 
Thing in the World,” 

BY 

HENRY DRUMMOND, LLD. &c. 

author of 

"Natural Law in the Spiritual World.” 

These two remarkable works have been issued com- 
plete in one volume by the Pollard Publishing Co. 
and are for the first time placed at a price so low as to 
allow of their general circulation among all classes. 
This was not possible as originally published for each 
book was sold seperately at a much higher price than 
are now asked for the two. They are printed from new 
type, complete and unabridged, and forming No. 9 of 
Pollard' s Popular Ptiblicalions. Parchment covers. 


PRICE 30 CENTS. 


Sent to any address, postage prepaid, upon receipt of 
the advertised price by the publishers. 


POLLARD PUBLISHING CO 

13 BARCLAY STREET, NEW YORK. 


THE 

HIGH ROLLER; 

OR, 

PLUNGING AND HONEYFUGLING 
ON THE RAGE TRACK, 

A Romance of Sporting Life in all its Phases. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

FORTUNE DU BOISGOBEY, 

BY 

HENRY LLEWELLYN WILLIAMS. 

Complete in one volume, 12 mo. illuminated cover, paper. Price 25 cents. 


In this book the famous French sensational writer Du Boisgobey has 
chosen the Race Track for his theme, and has peopled it with realistic pen- 
pictures of the most startling events in sporting life. 

After deep study of this strange world, where all is at high pressure and 
runs at full speed, he reveals, with artistic brightness and his own delicious 
fluency, the eventful and startling career of the Favorite of Fortune, — the 
leviathan betting man — “ The High Roller," from his first surprising win 
to his final success. 

Whilst the main interest clusters around the dashing, generous hero, the 
other turfites are vivaciously depicted— the jockey’s daughter, a'charming 
character — the veteran trainer — the “tout,” — the unscrupulous book-maker 
— the female tipster — the horse poisoner; in short, the fascinations and 
frauds of the Race Track are here laid bare; and around them is woven an 
exquisite love romance, whose raciness and artistic merit excel the author’s 
best previous effort. 

The double plot is entangled and unthreaded with consummate skill; the 
contrast, between the disinterested love of the beautiful barmaid and the 
villainous conspiracy which barely failed to wreck “The High Roller” 
forming a most fascinating triumph of literary excellence. 

“ The High Roller ” is published as No. 5 of Pollard’s Popular Publi- 
cations, i2mo, paper covers. Price 2a cents. 

For sale by all book and news dealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, 
upon receipt of twenty-five cents by the publishers. 


THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

13 BARC1.AY STREET, NEW YORK, 


TIIE 

HIGH ROLLER; 

OK, 

PLUNGING AND HONEYFUGLING 
ON THE RACE TRACK, 

A Romance of Sporting Life in all its Phases, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

KORTUNE DU BOISOOTBEY, 

BY 

HENRY LLEWELLYN WILLIAMS. 

Complete in one volume, 12 mo. illuminated cover, paper. Price 25 cents. 


In this book the famous French sensational writer Du Boisgobey has 
chosen the Race Track for his theme, and has peopled it with realistic pen- 
pictures of the most startling events in sporting life. 

After deep study of this strange world, where all is at high pressure and 
runs at full speed, he reveals, with artistic brightness and his own delicious 
fluency, the eventful and startling career of the Favorite of Fortune, — the 
leviathan betting man — “ The High Roller," from his first surprising win 
to his final success. 

Whilst the main interest clusters around the dashing, generous hero, the 
other turfites are vivaciously depicted— the jockey’s daughter, a charming 
character — the veteran trainer — the “tout," — the unscrupulous book-maker 
— the female tipster — the horse poisoner; in short, the fascinations and 
frauds of the Race Track are here laid bare; and around them is woven an 
exquisite love romance, whose raciness and artistic merit excel the author’s 
best previous effort. 

The double plot is entangled and unthreaded with consummate skill; the 
contrast, between the disinterested love of the beautiful barmaid and the 
villainous conspiracy which barely failed to wreck “The High Roller" 
forming a most fascinating triumph of literary excellence. 

The High Roller ’’ is published as No. 5 of Pollard’s Popular Publi- 
cations, i 2 mo, paper covers. Price 25 ce/tt1s. 

For sale by all book and news dealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, 
upon receipt of twenty-five cents by the publishers. 


THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

13 BARCLAY STREET, NEW YORK. 


Over Two Hundred Thousand Copies Sold! 

THE KREUTZER SOHATA, 

BY 

COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. 


Suppressed by the Czar of Russia and interdicted circulation through the United States 

mails by the Postmaster-General. 

FAC-^SIMILE OF THE ORDER: 




•Kreutaer Sonata* 



July CS, 1890. 


Pollards Publishing Co., 

13 Barclay St., 

City. 

Gentlemen:- ’ -'V, 

I have to inform you that this office is in receipt of a 

communication from the Hon. Third Assistant Postmaster General, 

❖ ^ 
Washington, D. C. stating that the Pollard's Popular Publications 

has been decided to be not entitled to circulation in the mails on 

the ground that No. 1 (Kroutzer Sonata) of the series la of an ln» 

decent character. 


Very respec^ully, 



Aaat* 


THE “MARKED PASSAGES. 


“ Brer Comstock said in court yesterday that he had not had time to read ‘ The 
Kreutzer Sonata ’ through. He has only read the ‘ marked passages.’ This is exactly 
what all the persons who hastened to buy the novel after attention was called to it by 
the threatened prosecution have been doing. And the police captain who ‘arrested’ the 
unfortunate books and brought them into court with the luckless wights who were found 
selling them — he also says he hasn’t read it. As for the Justice before whom the case 
was brought, he had read none of the marked or unmarked passages, but after reading 
the marked ones in court, he pronounced them ‘ incapable of affecting the morals of any 
person, young or old,’ and so the matter stands over. The prosecutors would better let 
It stay so until they have read the whole book.” 


Sent to any address^ prepaid^ by expresSf upon receipt of 
thirtymfive cents in postage stamps. 


THE POLLARD PUBLISHING COMPAiNY, 

13 BARCLAY ST., NEW YORK. 













































